


Hunting Ealing

by GayDemonicDisaster (scrapheapchallenge)



Series: Protection [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Good Omens Fusion, Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/M, Gen, Goddesses, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, Multi, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Vampire Bites, Vampire Hunters, Vampire Slayer(s), Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-16 17:36:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 23,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21275075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrapheapchallenge/pseuds/GayDemonicDisaster
Summary: The guardians call on an old friend, Crowley experiences an incongruous salad, and gains a blatant, rather than secret admirer.This is a sequel to “Protection” https://archiveofourown.org/works/21199874/chapters/50465618 , which you would need to read first to understand the characters and development in this fic. As appointed guardians of the Earth, the Ineffable Husbands are figuring out what that role includes, and it would appear that protecting humans from too much supernatural interference would fall under their remit. After a series of unusual murders in the London Borough of Ealing, Aziraphale and Crowley realise they need to defer to a certain deity for help in resolving the mystery. They were not counting on an irritating sex-mad human tagging along for the ride. Contains vampires. It was time to find out what Odessa actually does for a living when not helping rescue ex demons in distress.





	1. Who you gonna call?

Aziraphale looked up at Crowley from the body on the ground, dumped in bushes in the park on Ealing Common. Concern was etched into his face as he held a hand on the body, feeling for what had happened to it. “This is nothing mundane, love, this is something that comes under _her_ territory, if you catch my drift.” Crowley raised eyebrows in mild surprise.

“Ok, guess we’d better put a concealment miracle over it for now then, till she can have a look, don’t want the cops hauling the corpse away just yet.” He cast a look around the dark park, it was late, and the place was deserted at this time of night.

“How do we get hold of her?” Aziraphale looked confused.

Crowley considered for a moment. “You know, I think I can reverse engineer that as well, give me a minute…” He concentrated, casting about, trying to feel for the right way to do this, until he felt a familiar tug in the pit of his stomach. Ah, _that’s_ where it is, yes, now reach out, follow the thread – _there_. He concentrated, then snapped his fingers, and found himself outside a fairly ordinary front door in what was clearly still London, the giveaway dark green Lotus Carlton parked on the street outside. The tug in his belly twanged a little sharper, and he saw a shadow approaching the front door, backlit from the hall light inside, through the dappled glass panel. The door slammed open before he could even ring the bell, revealing an irritated looking Odessa.

“This had better be good” she demanded, dressed in her usual dark jeans and shirt, but topped with an incongruous apron. For someone who didn’t eat human food, it looked faintly ridiculous. “I guess you figured out how to reverse engineer the tracking as well then? I felt you shift then you were _here_. You’re a smart little ex-demon aren’t you?”

Crowley grinned, a little smug. “Got a situation over in Ealing that we are pretty sure falls under your, uh, jurisdiction?” She raised an eyebrow.

“You’d better come in then.” And turned on her heel, leading the way through the hallway of the nicely appointed Victorian semi-detached home, to a palatial kitchen and extension at the back of the house, where she picked up a knife and resumed chopping ingredients for a salad. Crowley looked on in faint puzzlement.

“It’s not for me, obviously, it’s a packed lunch for tomorrow.” At that moment a man ambled in from the conservatory. In his 30s, short unruly black hair, lean frame but with a wiry musculature made clear by the virtue of him being topless, only wearing black jeans. He wore black eyeliner and a dark red, almost black, nail polish. A few tattoos scattered his hands, arms and chest, Crowley recognised several of them as wards against various supernatural evils. The guy was undoubtedly handsome in a lazy, laid-back way*, and Crowley couldn’t help but feel the faintest smudge of attraction despite himself.

“Oh, hi” the guy drawled, only slightly surprised. Odessa interjected

“Crowley, Sean, Sean, Crowley, business call.” Sean raised an eyebrow with a saucy expression at Crowley, blatantly looking him up and down approvingly with a crooked grin.

“So you’re the mysterious Anthony J. Crowley huh? Pleased to make your acquaintance, S…” he broke off as Odessa gave him a sharp look.

“To Crowley I’m ‘Odessa’” she cut in.

“Ah, ok love. Well I’m off to bed” he gave her a quick kiss, hand lingering on her waist, then sauntered toward the hall, “See you later, don’t do anyone I wouldn’t do” and tipped a salacious wink and a raised eyebrow at Crowley.

After he’d gone upstairs, Crowley stared at the Goddess. “He’s, uh, human.” She nodded, and carried on preparing the salad with deft knife skills that spoke of long practise. “Wait, ‘don’t do _anyone _he wouldn’t do_’_…?”

Odessa gave him a sidelong look and rolled her eyes. “Pansexual, poly, open relationship.” She replied. “And yes, given the look he just gave you, he’d absolutely do you too.”

“Does he know you’re…?”

“A supernatural entity? Of course. It’s not exactly the kind of thing you can keep explaining away when you damn well live together.”

“Aaaaaannnddd…. You’re making him _lunch_.” She spun in the blink of an eye in a gracefully balletic move that casually, gently but firmly, ended with Crowley pinned to the kitchen wall with a blade a millimetre from his Adams apple.

She added with calm menace: “If you start taking the piss, you little shit, I’ll carve a fucking cock on your chest and make sure it scars.”

Crowley gulped. “Uh, sure. Sorry. Point taken.”

She released him and tipped the chopped vegetables and croutons into a tupperware, “besides, apparently for someone who doesn’t eat them, I’m allegedly good at making salads” she shrugged, and started clearing the kitchen.

Crowley tipped his head on one side. “But given he’s mortal, and you’re immortal, isn’t it a bit… weird? In the grand scheme of things you can only be together in the blink of an eye before he’s died of old age surely?”

“And in the blink of an eye for beings like us, a lifelong relationship with a human may count as a one night stand, but let’s face it, we both know how fun they can be, so your point is?” She stared into his eyes, defiant. “Humans keep pets, some of them, rats and mice might only live a year or so, about an 80th of an average human lifespan, and yet the humans still care for them just as fiercely, knowing the pets don’t comprehend the brevity of their existence, they just enjoy the moment, and in turn the humans enjoy the pleasure, love and joy that the pets give back. Why should supernatural beings spend eternity lonely? Not all of us have fellow entities that can, or will, share our path. You and Aziraphale got lucky, so excuse me if I fuck a few humans to pass the time.”

Crowley nodded, weakly. “Anyhow, Aziraphale and I have been getting to grips with this whole ‘guardian’ thing, generally keeping an eye out for humans, particularly any that might be being affected negatively by, uh, supernatural influences, and we found something in Ealing.” She led the way to the conservatory and lounged on a huge modular sofa. Crowley collapsed at the other end of it and carried on.

“I can’t smell them out like you can, but, we found a body, dead and not very well hidden in a bush. Drained of blood, Aziraphale says from what he can feel. It sounded like it fell under your remit so thought I’d better come and get you. It isn’t the first one though. There’s been a few in the area, the police have been picking them up as unexplained deaths, we managed to get into the morgue and check out a few of the bodies, but this is the first time we’ve found one before the police did. Aziraphale’s keeping an eye on it while I came to get you. Whoever is doing it is careless. I know you said that the well behaved ones just drink a bit and leave them alive, but whoever this is, they’re draining each one to death and just dumping the bodies, and I know you don’t approve of that kind of behaviour.”

Odessa’s countenance had darkened as she listened, jaw set. She briefly cast her eyes upwards, considering something. “It’s actually the kind of thing Sean likes to get stuck into, but he needs a break today, I’ll come along and take a look. I’ll drive, Ealing isn’t far from here anyway and I know you can’t snap back and forth repeatedly before you wear yourself out. Come on.” Losing the apron and donning a leather jacket, she stalked out the door to the Lotus Carlton parked by the kerb, as Crowley followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Fuck it, yes, he vaguely resembles Peter Vincent from Fright night. Not exactly, but maybe close enough to be his brother. I make no apologies for this indulgence. Enjoy Crowley being slightly weirded out by him and not knowing quite why. If Sean owns a Khanjar (Omani dagger) however, he at least has the good sense not to wear it upside down like Peter Vincent does. That annoyed me.


	2. How To Infuriate An Ex-Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our heroes search for clues, enjoy a nibble together, and all of Crowley’s buttons get pressed at once, not in a good way.

“What do you mean, the kind of thing Sean gets stuck into?” he queried as she drove, very much like Crowley drove, weaving through traffic as if it wasn’t there, without anyone appearing to notice. She scrunched her face a little, as if vaguely embarrassed by the admission.

“He’s uh, a vampire hunter.” She muttered.

Crowley was incredulous. “Uh, ok… care to elaborate on that? That must have been some kind of first date?”

She glared at him. “Shut it.” She downshifted aggressively and blipped the throttle, spinning up the twin turbos in a whistle of power that planted a huge virtual hand in the centre of Crowley’s chest and shoved him firmly back into his seat. He began to understand how Aziraphale must feel with his own driving.

They zipped past Ealing studios and headed on toward Ealing common, her instinct homing in on the corner where Aziraphale waited. As they approached, the angel felt an answering tug that he learned foretold the approach of the Goddess.* Crowley unfolded himself from the car, trying to relax muscles that had been tensed up the entire drive over as he clung on while they plunged through traffic at high speed normally only achieved in his Bentley around London, although he still derived a thrill from the experience of someone else driving him in that way.

Odessa stalked over to where Aziraphale stood by the bush concealing the prone form of the drained human, knelt, and lifted the corpse as if it weighed nothing, examining it carefully, sniffing, then placed a hand over his stilled heart and closed her eyes, concentrating, face dark with growing anger. The man was in his 70s and frail, he hadn’t deserved to go like this. Aziraphale saw the change in her eyes as she laid the body back down and stood up. He recognised that look and what it meant. Someone was going to have some major regrets over their life decisions shortly. Her eyes shone with golden flames and a low, guttural, feral growl started deep in the pit of her chest as she cast about, seemingly sniffing the air, searching for a trace, and began pacing around.

“This is some amateur fuckery, some bloody neonate that doesn’t know that they’re doing. I’m going to fucking kill whoever embraced them, they’ve clearly not taught them anything about the right way to behave.” She seemed unsure of a direction, casting about in semi circles like a hound trying to own a scent, frustrated and the growl growing in her throat with frustration. Aziraphale subtly reached out to take Crowley’s hand next to him. The wrath of the Goddess could tend to spill out in an aura that left any being caught in the wave feel uneasy, if not outright terror, he remembered what it felt like and sought the reassurance of the red haired guardian at his side.

Crowley squeezed his hand gently as they watched her pace about like a tiger in a cage, anger rising. “I’ll fucking kill the _pair_ of them. Where the fuck, what, aaaaarrrrrgggghhh” her growl descending into a brutal low explosion of frustration at the end. “Come ON you little shit, where did you _go_?”

Aziraphale noted her claws materialising with rising apprehension. “There’s been a pattern…” he suggested, nervously. She spun on him, eyes aflame, mid snarl, then noted his expression and cooled immediately, remembering herself.

“Uh, I’m sorry, Aziraphale” She straightened her shoulders, eyes returning to their normal humanoid appearance, grey-green, and she brushed her long brown-auburn-gold hair from her face with a hand that was returning to normal as well.

Aziraphale coughed politely, and rummaged in the pocket of his overcoat, withdrawing a much folded London A-Z. It had a few markings on it in pencil. He spread it out and handed it to her. “I dated the attacks where the other 5 bodies were found, all in the past month. The humans are getting uneasy about it, especially as they can’t seem to discern the cause of death, it’s got them on edge.” She studied the map intently.

“I guess I’ll have to stake out the area for a few days.”

“I’ll tag along, if you like” Crowley put in.

She looked at him. “Why?” “So I can learn how to find the bastards as well I guess” he shrugged his eyebrows at her. She looked at him steadily, then broke off her gaze and handed the map back to Aziraphale.

“Fine. Let me call Sean, he can help spread the net a bit wider. We can leave the corpse here for the police to clear up, you can make it detectable again now. While we wait let’s head over to Stage 6 so you boys can get something to eat and drink while we wait.”

“Stage 6?” queried Crowley**.

“Red Lion, it’s opposite Ealing studios, close enough that actors and crew could slink off between takes for a beer, so they nicknamed it so they could say they were just heading over to stage 6 for something rather than admitting to knocking off for a pint.” She invited them into the Carlton for the short jaunt around the park, so she could park it outside the pub.

Crowley handed a menu to Aziraphale. “What do you fancy, angel?”

Aziraphale threw him a cheeky smile “you”, and winked. Crowley blinked for a moment as his brain cells fused temporarily. He was still taken aback on occasion when his angel chose cheeky public displays of affection, that they had gone thousands of years resisting.

Crowley spent an enjoyable twenty minutes lusting over Aziraphale eating his dinner, consuming nothing himself save a glass of red wine as he enjoyed every moment of the celestial being delicately conveying morsels of food past those perfect lips, and occasionally throwing a saucy, knowing look right back at Crowley. He knew what he was doing, damn him, he was hamming it up on purpose trying to get his lover to squirm, throwing in tiny, quiet moans of delight with each mouthful, and enjoying watching Crowley shift uneasily in his seat, knuckles white on clenched fist, one hand unconsciously stroking that elegant neck up toward his own lips, as if whispering “I too have lips, angel, right here, and they would very dearly love to meet yours.” His whole body leaned in, want etched into every line.

Odessa rolled her eyes at the pair of them. “Please, boys, get a damn room.” They had almost completely forgotten her existence sitting at the end of the table, and saw her head raise, listening, a little half smile playing on the corner of her lips, she stood just as, with a rumble of a V8 engine, a rugged looking black land rover defender 130 pulled up outside to park behind the Carlton. It wasn’t a new one, but an older military wolf style version, geared up as if for some kind of expedition, with a roof rack sporting an array of spotlights. It was satin black, without a shine, and faintly grubby, dented and scuffed. Sean hopped out of the driver’s door and sauntered in, having thrown a torn black Pantera t-shirt on before leaving the house, Crowley noted. Honestly he looked like he was trying too hard.

“Here comes the boy toy” he whispered in Aziraphale’s ear as Odessa stood to greet him. Sean grasped her waist and pushed forward in a full on kiss, showing off, leaning her back slightly with a cocky insouciance, and winked over at Crowley as he did so. Standing straight again, he cast an appraising look over Aziraphale that Crowley altogether did not approve of, with one eyebrow raised.

Crowley hissed gently and allowed a little wave of protective menace to roll across the room toward the newcomer, _MINE _it insinuated. Sean certainly seemed to detect the angry aura, but looked singularly unimpressed by it. He grinned, cocksure. “So you must be Aziraphale, eh? Pleasure to meet you”, he extended his hand, and when Aziraphale took it to shake, instead he lifted the angel’s hand to his lips to give it a quick peck of greeting as an old fashioned gentleman might greet a lady.

Crowley stared incredulously at the blush suffusing his angel’s neck and cheeks. “That’s IT you little shit!” he grabbed Sean by the shirt and bundled him backwards into the wall, the bastard was still grinning insolently, particularly unbothered.

“Mate, you’ve seen what the goddess gets like, you’ll have to do a lot better than that, you’re just teasing me here” he grinned and licked his lower lip teasingly at Crowley, who flung his hands up in disgust and let him go. “Aw come on, do it again, I was enjoying that.” Aziraphale was watching the pair of them, shocked, and slightly turned on, knowing exactly what it felt like to be in that position, slightly jealous, possibly of both of them.

How could a human of all things be so unflustered by an angry ex-demon like that? Then Aziraphale remembered the rampage into hell and reconsidered. He’d seen what Odessa was like when she got excited, he guessed that this mortal was used to it and enjoyed the thrill. He was a ballsy little bugger.

Odessa stepped smoothly between the seething ex-demon and slutty human, still grinning and eyeing Crowley’s body up and down with undisguised salacious appreciation. She held up her hands, planting one in each chest to keep them apart. “Settle the fuck down you idiots. Sit … _SIT_ down and shut up. Fucks sake, you two are too bloody alike for your own good.” Crowley stared at her, insulted. Then cast another gaze at Sean. She wasn’t entirely wrong. Physically, their faces were not that far different, and they had similar lean bodies, although Sean was shorter by a few inches, the hair was spiky black and messy rather than red and styled. The inexorable pressure of her strength pressed him backwards and down into his seat again, and he sat back, seething quietly, eyes snaked out more than usual behind his glasses, all 6 wings itching to corporate, and being held back by supreme act of will.

Aziraphale reached out and stroked his back gently, soothing his frustration, and pushing a little calming power into him, a sensation akin to fingers stroking through his ruffled feathers, grounding him again.

Odessa rounded on Sean. “And _you_ can behave as well you little bastard.” He raised his hands placating, then turned to go to the bar for a drink, returning with a pint of Fullers. Swivelling a chair backwards, he straddled it, leaning on the chair back.

“So, what have we got?” he grinned, taking a gulp of beer, then reached across and pinched a bit of potato off Aziraphale’s nearly-finished plate. Crowley’s nails scratched the varnish off the table in four parallel lines before the angel’s hand covered his gently and stilled him.

“There’s some neonate kindred rampaging around Ealing draining humans and leaving corpses all over the place.” Odessa supplied. “It’s spread over a fairly wide area and I can’t find a scent yet, so need to cover more ground. These guys don’t know exactly what they’re looking for so it’ll be best if we pair up, you and me with one of them each. I’d say I’ll take Crowley and you take Aziraphale but I suspect Crowley doesn’t want you left alone with Aziraphale, so against my better judgement, you two are going to have to set your differences aside and fucking cooperate. Show him how to spot the signs as best you can, I’ll take Aziraphale for a ride along”.

Crowley glared at her, and at Sean, but Aziraphale squeezed his thigh under the table comfortingly. “You’ll be fine, dearest” he whispered in his ear. Sean, for his part, looked pleased and wriggled in his chair slightly. He drained the rest of his pint, pinched another bit of potato from Aziraphale’s plate, stood up and patted Crowley’s arm, eliciting another angry hiss.

“After you, Mr Hissy, that way I get to watch that glorious arse slinking ahead of me.” He winked, then yelped as Odessa grabbed him by the balls through his tight jeans, holding firm and glaring into his eyes, she growled.

“Cut. It. Out. Dumb arse.” Sean whimpered and nodded. She released him and glanced in apology at Crowley.

Sean led the way to the Land Rover, as Odessa led Aziraphale to the Carlton. “You take West Ealing” she said, “We’ll take the East. Still got a few hours of darkness left to play with, meet back here at dawn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * In the first in this series, “Protection” https://archiveofourown.org/works/21199874/chapters/50465618 the Goddess Odessa uses a drop of blood sorcery on Aziraphale and Crowley in order to be able to track them, it has a slight reverse action as well, so they can feel when she is approaching, or leaving.
> 
> **yes it's a real place, I've spent a while hanging around Ealing, feel free to visit, try the pizza or the artisan pies, lots of interesting movie history on the walls.


	3. Split the pack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Crowley continues to be annoyed, and an angel is tempted into commencing some temptation himself.

Once in the car, heading westward, Sean glanced over at a seething Crowley in the passenger seat. “I’m sorry.” He said, looking trite, it was a genuine apology. “I get carried away sometimes, I was too full-on for you.” Crowley grunted, noncommittal, glaring straight forward, as the burbling V8i under the bonnet growled their way along the dark London streets, travelling at a normal speed, given its human driver. “We’ll park up, then get up higher. There’s a building under renovation that offers some good views of the area, help us get an idea of places to look.” Crowley nodded, silent.

“Can you smell them?” Sean asked him, after several minutes of silence.

Crowley shook his head. “You?”

Sean scrunched his face and waggled his head from side to side “so-so, not as well as the Goddess can of course, but she gave me a couple of skills I can use”.

“Do you really call her Goddess at home?” Crowley mocked.

Sean shook his head. “Nah, that’s private stuff though”.

Crowley snorted. “I’m amazed you _have_ any _private_ stuff” he sneered acidly.

After a moment he spoke. “How’d she give you these ‘skills’ anyway?”

Sean looked uncomfortable. “She’s a vampire goddess, dude, use your imagination.”

“Blood.”

“Yeah. That’s how most of it works. Not a lot, but enough, with the right bit of magic thrown in I guess.”

“But you’re still human.”

“Yeah. It’s complicated. Just enough dark divinity in the mix to give me a better skillset, not enough to negatively affect me. Bit like your demonic influences I guess, from what she’s told me. Enough angel, enough demon, to balance out both, best of both worlds, right?”

Crowley wondered darkly how much else Odessa had told this insolent human about him. “So… could she give me that as well?” Sean looked across at him as he pulled up to the kerb and stilled the engine.

“Has she ever, erm. Has she ever taken any of your blood?” He queried, hesitantly.

So she hadn’t told him everything then. “Yes” he replied after a pause. Sean smirked, spotting the flash of erotic memory that passed across Crowley’s features at the admission.

“Well, fuck me. Were you still a demon at the time?” Crowley shook his head, and decided not to mention all the demons she HAD consumed. “What did it feel like?” Sean probed, curious, leaning forwards. “I mean I’ve watched her do that to vampires, never to me, I’m not suitable, but fuck me it looks _good_. Was it, good I mean?”

Crowley stared at him coolly, jaw firm. _He’s jealous_. Crowley thought. He declined to answer and got out of the car. Sean sighed and followed suit. “Up there” he motioned at the vacant building – an old Victorian edifice, now not much more than a shell, surrounded in scaffolding, undergoing a transformation into trendy new apartments or some such nonsense. The ground floor was locked up tight, but Sean simply took a running jump at the lowest level of scaffolding and swung himself up with surprising athleticism for a mere human. Crowley followed suit with the surety of movement of someone at ease with their serpent aspect, instinctively reaching out for each new handhold as if flinging a snaking coil over a branch.

Once past the first level they could simply enter through a glassless window and use the stairs to ascend. The city never truly slept, and the echoes of emergency vehicle sirens and other bustle of nightlife wafted up through the clear night air, strangely beautiful. Crowley looked across to where Sean was hunkered down on the parapet, gazing across the city. Trust his damned luck to be lumbered with an oversexed queer goth up here with these views, whilst his angel was elsewhere. He sighed. “What are we looking for then?”

* * *

On the other side of the borough, Aziraphale walked alongside Odessa as she stalked the streets, struggling to keep up with her determined pace. “How do you find them usually?” he panted, scurrying to catch up. She slowed slightly in deference to his preferred pace.

“Start with usual hunting grounds, usually places where humans go in big disorganised groups like night clubs, or places where they’ll be vulnerable and alone, walking home from a late shift, jogging in the park, dog walkers, night shift workers like street sweepers and such like. Start there, then I let the scent take over. I can smell the different blood. They don’t have to be bleeding, I can just feel it _there_.

Once I’ve got that, look about for someone concentrating far too hard on a human, hone in on them, and get close enough to pick out which one the smell is centred on. If I’ve drunk from them before, then it’s far easier, I can tell where they are just feeling the pull if I concentrate on them. It works in a similar way to the marker I left with you two, but more intense. This one is new, someone has created them recently and by the looks of it just abandoned them to learn on their own. That’s a huge no-no. Even other vampires will be down on them like a ton of bricks when they find out, they’ve got a surprisingly strict set of laws for dealing with shit like this. They need to, in order to keep up the pretence that they don’t exist.”

“So, can you smell any now?” Aziraphale looked worried.

“Yes, plenty, just not the one that I want. Which means I’m going to have to ask questions instead. Do you think you’ll be ok with that? It might be like the demon in the bookshop” she reminded him. The angel shuddered at the memory. He had been left a cowering wreck on the floor, his wings had spontaneously corporated in defence above his head, he hadn’t been expecting the sheer weight of power of the wave of malevolence and anger that had rolled across the room when the Goddess let rip with her wrath at the demon trapped in the summoning circle.

He nodded at her. “I think, if I know it’s coming, it’ll be easier, now I know what to expect. Will they be easier to deal with than demons?” She gave a one-shouldered shrug and piloted them into a busy bar.

“Well for me, certainly, they’re mine.” Her head was lifted, scanning the air for something, then a satisfied grin spread across her face. “Well, well, well” she muttered setting eyes on a tall, sharply dressed blonde guy across the room, sitting at a table alone, watching the others with mild interest, looking slightly predatory.

Odessa turned to Aziraphale. “Want to have some fun, Aziraphale?” She winked at him, and flicked her head in the direction of the tall blonde. “I’ve a feeling you might be his type. Reckon you could pass for a sweet innocent human and tempt that sweet morsel outside for me?” Aziraphale gulped, wide eyed, then nodded, hesitantly. “Perfect” she smiled. “Bring him round the back where it’s quieter, I’ll meet you there. Flirt shamelessly with him.” Then she was gone.


	4. Return of the Soho Snack ™

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Odessa meets an old acquaintance, an angel does some tempting and practises his flirting skills, before channelling his inner Cherubim again.

Aziraphale hadn’t tried flirting with anyone other than Crowley for the past 6000 years, and didn’t think he’d been very good at that (little did he know…) but he got himself a martini from the bar to steady his nerves, and wandered across to the Blonde boy’s table. Indicating the space on the bench seat next to him, he raised his eyebrows in enquiry as to whether the seat was free. Blondie looked up at him with interest and smiled warmly, inviting him to sit down next to him, then shuffling a little closer.

“Hi there!” He raised his voice to Aziraphale’s ear to be head over the music. “I’m Martin” he held out his hand. Aziraphale took it nervously.

“Uh, Fell, um…” his mind scrambled, he’d just insist that humans called him Mr. Fell, he didn’t allow familiarity so never bothered with a first name, bother it, he knew what was inevitable for A. Z. Fell to be… “Uh, Anthony, Anthony Fell, pleased to make your acquaintance” he smiled back, uncertainly, and sipped his martini, trying to look anywhere but those intense blue eyes staring back into his own. He desperately tried to think of what small talk humans might utilise in such situations, but Martin did the work for him.

“So what do you do then?”

“Uh, I’m a rare book dealer, I have a small shop…”

Martin’s eyes lit up as if Aziraphale was suddenly the most interesting person in the room – a natural act of flattery and manipulation that his kind used with ease to ensnare humans. “Oh that’s wonderful, I have a fascination for old books as well, tell me, do you have any copies of 'Mr. Sponge’s Sporting Tour?' I’ve been trying to track down a set for a couple of years now.” Aziraphale was surprised that the vampire would actually have any real knowledge about antique books, but he supposed there was no telling how old it really was. Perhaps it was from the 1800s and had picked something popular out of its memory for the purpose.

“Oh, I say, as a matter of fact I do. The MFH edition, with woodcuts by John Leech as it happens. I did have the medium octavo from 1874 but I’m afraid I sold that one already.” Martin nodded eagerly and leaned in closer.

“Well aren’t you just the most wonderful person I’ve met all week” he smiled charmingly, holding Aziraphale’s eye contact unnervingly. Aziraphale cast his eyes down shyly and sipped more martini, unsure what to do.

Then the creature’s hand was on his _thigh_, squeezing gently, questioningly. Aziraphale’s eyes shot up in alarm to clash with the vampire’s, who met him with a seductive smile. The angel quailed. Martin reached out to stroke his face, Aziraphale allowed the contact and closed his eyes, his mind suddenly full of Crowley.

* * *

On a rooftop a couple of miles away, Crowley felt a wash of unease roll across his stomach.

* * *

Aziraphale, eyes still closed, felt breath, warm on his lips, _too close_. No. His eyes shot open again and he leaned back, bringing his martini glass between them as a barrier and draining the remainder of it shakily. “I say” he stuttered. “It is rather warm in here, don’t you think? I think I shall go out for some air, would you care to join me? It is so terribly hard to hear over the music in here.” Martin, mollified despite the interruption, smiled like a cat that’s just spied a helpless baby bird on the ground and nodded.

“Certainly, I’d like nothing more.” He stood and held his hand out, to help Aziraphale up from the seat, but refused to relinquish it after he’d risen, and took his arm as Aziraphale led the way to the exit.

* * *

The fresh night air helped enormously, but he was disquieted at the creature insisting on keeping hold of his arm as if they were close companions already. It felt rude to wrestle his arm away, so he tolerated it with good grace, as they rounded the corner, he heard a pleasant voice behind them drawl “Well hello, Soho Snack”, and felt Martin freeze in terror at the Goddess’s voice.

She stepped around them as Aziraphale extracted his arm from Martin’s grip, then she grasped his silk tie, and lazily led him around the back of the building, he complied in a daze, Aziraphale following after, relieved that his brief foray into flirtation with a stranger had come to an end.

“Fancy meeting you here, Snacky Boy” Odessa grinned suggestively, then lounged back on a pile of boxes, looking him up and down. “Aziraphale, was this man bothering you?” Aziraphale looked uncomfortable. “Well then, I think he needs to be taught a lesson, don’t you? Go on, cherub.” He knew what that meant, and suddenly he understood what she got out of the enjoyment of power. Feeling strange to have permission to let go, he eyed up the skinny vampire, then flexed his muscles and abruptly grabbed it by the immaculate suit collar, pinning it up against the wall, it’s feet several inches off the ground, whimpering at the strong steel of the angel’s grip holding him at arm’s length.

“That’s the way” Odessa nodded approvingly. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” Aziraphale had to admit to himself that it did. He could feel bones grinding under his hands. “So, Martin, was it?” she continued. “I’m hoping you could help us with our enquiries.” Martin nodded, eager to appease them.

“Please, my lady, he’s hurting me.”

Her expression didn’t change. “Is he? Oh dear. I suppose you’d prefer it if _I_ took over?” The vampire nodded, weakly. Of course he did, damnit. He was addicted. She sighed, she was hungry anyway. “Ok, Aziraphale, you can let him down.” Aziraphale dropped Martin with disgust and stepped back.

The Goddess stepped up, holding his gaze intently. The threatening aura began to roll out, but Aziraphale, emboldened by enjoying his little act of power play, let it roll over him without discomfort, whilst watching the undead squirm against the wall, in part fear, part lust. Crowley had told him about this. By the sounds of it, by some random coincidence, this was the same one Crowley had seen on the night he first met the Goddess.

“What do you know about any newly embraced kindred in this area?”

Martin went wide eyed with shock and fear. “I, we, yes. We know. We know. Er. Oh fuck. We found a body and we saw what had been done. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. We thought we could deal with it ourselves but we haven’t found it yet. We should have called upon you, and let you deal with it.”

“No.” she countered. “You absolutely should be dealing with it before it even comes to my attention. Because now it has, it shows how fucking incompetent you lot are, unable to keep a firm rein on your own ranks. I’m not your fucking babysitter. The fact that you’ve let it get this far is evidence enough that your organisation has gone to hell in a handbasket, and if you don’t pull your damn finger out of your collective arses, then a few of you are going to get culled. Who is in charge right now?”

“Adamson” the vampire replied, weakly, his terror now definitely overwhelming his lust. Odessa nodded.

"Well you’re going to take him a message that everyone, EVERYONE now has the task, first and foremost, of finding this piece of shit neonate, AND whatever fuckhead embraced them, and bringing them to ME.”

Martin nodded, terrified. Odessa reached toward him and he whined with need. Her left hand roughly pinned his shoulder back to the wall, whilst her right loosened his tie and yanked his jacket down. She ripped the top button of his silk shirt asunder, exposing a long, lean, milky white throat. He groaned in ecstasy of anticipation as she leaned in. Aziraphale stared on, fascinated and oddly aroused at the spectacle unfolding before him.

Martin shivered with bliss as Odessa’s teeth sliced neatly into his neck, and let out a euphoric moan at the sensation. With the first gulp down her rippling throat, Aziraphale noticed that the vampire was physically aroused in the trouser department. The sounds he was making were _obscene_ in their raw lust. Aziraphale made a mental note to ask Crowley to bite him more at home. As Odessa drew another draught of blood from the creature’s vein, it gasped out in an almost orgasmic fashion. Aziraphale was feeling rather flustered, and understood now the raw intensity of the act, and why Odessa had refused to take any blood from Crowley’s neck, it truly was an act of almost lovemaking. No wonder she had tried to distance herself by choosing his arm instead. 

Aziraphale also understood why she had insisted that she wouldn’t take his blood either, and recalled how intense she had looked even healing his wounds in hell. It must have been hard for her to stay focussed, heavens above now even HE was having trouble staying focussed, seeing Martin’s facial expression, his whole BODY expression. As Odessa released and stepped back, the vampire reached out trying to grasp hold and draw her back in, but she pushed his arms away easily and glared at him. “You will consult with your council and bring any and all intelligence, if you have any that is, directly to my attention. Should you find these individuals and have opportunity to seize them, do so, and again you will bring the fact to my attention. You are free to go.”


	5. Crowley is having a Shit Night.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for summary - see chapter title.

On a rooftop across the borough, Sean had picked up on something. “Down there” he pointed, to the park below where a dog walker was ambling along, on his phone, not concentrating, despite the entire body language of his pet screaming that there was something amiss as a stranger sauntered up to them. “Shit, gotta get down there fast.” Crowley looked across at him, and snapped his fingers. In an instant, the pair of them were standing on the path in the darkened park. The human was too engrossed in his phone to even notice but the dog yelped. Crowley shot it a look, and it scurried, whimpering back to its owner, who walked on past, oblivious, disappearing around a bend in the path.

The interloper however, _had_ seen their sudden appearance, and had frozen solid at the sight. Sean was still off balance, never having experienced temporal travel before, Crowley smugly grinned in the knowledge that the cocky little shit was probably feeling like bringing up his lunch as well, as nausea was a side effect on non-supernatural beings in response to a sudden relocation. “This what we’re looking for?” He demanded. Sean nodded weakly, doubled over a little, gulping back bile.

Crowley turned to what was apparently a vampire. He still couldn’t tell – there was no scent different to a human that he could discern – must be some kind of cloaking or deflection they had built in. The vampire did seem to instantly understand that Crowley wasn’t human though, and stood transfixed for a moment, before turning to try and run. _Fuck that_. Crowley’s wings ripped into existence and he launched upward, landing neatly in front of the vampire, flicked his shades off and subjected him to the full force of his fearsome aspect, all 6 wings spread wide. Combining his archangel of vengeance aspect with his demonic _and_ his serpent aspect was a combination of unholy terror that few would be able to face down.

The vampire fell to its knees, jaw slack, uncomprehending. Sean had recovered sufficiently to walk up behind it, and pulled a thin cord from his pocket, looping it around the undead’s neck like a garrotte, and holding it firm. The vampire howled in pain. “Cord’s soaked in holy water” Sean commented by way of explanation to Crowley, who pulled a face. It may not bother him physically any more, a fact he’d boldly celebrated by downing a wine glass full of the stuff, but 6000 years of instinct don’t go away overnight, and it still had the capability to make him uneasy sometimes from force of habit. He folded his wings away again and stalked toward the vampire.

“How’d we know if this is the one?”

Sean shook his head “Unlikely, this one’s old, we’re looking for a newbie. But we can grill it for information. Nice wings by the way, dude.” The vampire’s eyes rolled madly in its head, insensible with fear, its neck an agony of burning, blistering as he clawed at the garrotte holding him in place. Crowley glared at the pair of them, and replaced his shades.

“Oi, shit for brains” Sean addressed the squirming vampire at his feet. “What do you know about any neonates around here?” He released the pressure on the cord just enough to allow speech, but not for escape. Whilst he was stronger than he looked, without the holy water, there was no way he’d have stood a chance at restraining a supernatural being, Crowley guessed it took a bit of lateral thinking to be able to figure out ways to deal with things when you’re mortal.

The vampire glared up at Crowley, obviously unable to address Sean behind him. “It’s not my fucking fault, mate. There’s some bastard going around embracing idiots, and at least one of them has fucked off and gone rogue. We found two of the other neonates and despatched them, but we can’t find the fucker responsible, or the rogue one. We don’t know how many there aaaarrgh…” The last word choked off as Sean tightened the cord again.

“Despatched them?” The undead nodded, and pointed at the sky.

“Sun…” he managed. Sean relaxed his grip again.

“Right. Time for S… Odessa. Hey, Hot Hips, you hold him for a minute would you?” Crowley snarled at him but stepped forward and grasped the cord warily, like having a dog on a damn leash. Sean pulled his mobile from his pocket and dialled the goddess. “Hey babe, we’re over at Trinity gardens, got one for questioning, seems quite amenable but I thought you’d better come on over and take a look at him.” He paused, nodding. “No, I haven’t. Nah. Being a good boy, hotness.” And ended the call.

Crowley dragged the unwilling undead over to a park bench, and sat down, while the vampire sprawled at his feet, restrained on his holy water infused leash, seething at the indignity of it all. Sean sauntered over with a slouching strut to rival Crowley’s own, immediately irritating. _Doesn’t he know it makes him look like an utter prat?_ He thought to himself. He reconsidered and grudgingly admitted to himself that was the jealousy talking. The irritating little human did actually look good. He grimaced. He was having a shit night.


	6. Morning, sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don’t bother lying to a deity.

Crowley heard the roar of the Carlton in the distance about the same time he felt the now familiar tug in his abdomen heralding the arrival of the Goddess. The vampire at their feet seemed to feel something too and tried to scramble to his feet. Crowley was in no mood for any more shit this evening and yanked it back down again by the cord around its neck, pulling it off balance so it fell sideways, then promptly rested one boot on its shoulder to keep it down, glaring hard.

Aziraphale alighted and walked over with a little more confidence in his step than Crowley was used to, eyeing their captive with interest. Odessa followed, and recognised the prone vampire. “Oh, hi, Stan. I hope you’ve been behaving.” Stan nodded, warily. “Crowley, would you mind letting him sit up a little?” Crowley shrugged and released the creature from the cord around its neck, tossing it in the vague direction of the irritating human, hoping to make him scramble to catch it, but not bothering to look.

The vampire sat up straighter, still on the ground with its back to the park bench. “My lady…”

“Who is it, Stan?” she demanded.

“We don’t know, we’re trying to find out, we are, I promise you my lady…” He cast his eyes fearfully to the east meaningfully. Dawn was not far away and he was getting edgy. Odessa was clearly giving zero fucks by this point. She stepped over to him and placed a hand on his head, reading his thoughts directly. He recoiled and tried to duck away, but Aziraphale shot a strong arm out and pinned him back against the bench, brooking no debate. Crowley raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. Forceful angel was _hot_.

“Why even bother trying to hide things from me, Stan?” she sighed, disappointed. “You suspect you know who it is. And you’re trying to protect them. Why is she embracing humans irresponsibly?”

Stan couldn’t meet her eyes. “She wouldn’t tell me.”

“But you’re trying to protect her anyway? You’re more stupid than you look. Well you’re not telling her we’re coming, Stan. You’ve done some truly despicable things haven’t you? You thought you buried them deep down in there, thought you walled your thoughts off safe didn’t you? Well guess what? I can hear those humans screaming, Stan, and I know you still can too. We’re going to hang out here together a little longer.” Fear flashed in his eyes.

“Shift up, Crowley” she nudged the guardian aside, and took a seat on the bench behind the prone vampire, a leg either side of him, and leaned down, grasping his shoulders from behind, and brought her mouth close to whisper in his ear. “You and I are going to enjoy some quality time together, Stan, just you, me, these gorgeous boys, and a beautiful sunrise…” The vampire tried to struggle, but found Aziraphale’s foot planted against his chest, pinning him back.

Odessa sighed again, leaned forward and sunk her teeth into his soft neck, taking her sweet time and drinking slowly as Crowley, Aziraphale and Sean watched on at the debauched sight. Aziraphale withdrew his foot, it was unnecessary now that the vampire was forcing himself backwards into the embrace, moaning in an agony of pleasure. At least he’d have it blissful at the end, moaning in ecstasy as the last of his blood drained from his body just as the first rays of sun struck him, searing into a flash of light and dust. There were worse ways to go. As an archangel of Vengeance, Crowley had done worse, and he gazed on, impassive, as the sentence was passed. Personally, he’d have made it as painful as possible given the circumstances.

Odessa straightened up, brushing ash from her jeans absently. “Well, there’s no point hanging around here now the sun’s up. I suggest you two head home now, we’ll meet again at sunset, Gunnersbury Park, by the college entrance tomorrow evening.” She glanced at Sean. “You’d better have been behaving.”

The human shrugged and grinned. “He’s still dressed, isn’t he?” Crowley shot him a look of pure hatred before stalking off, taking Aziraphale’s hand and dragging him along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bashed out the first 6 chapters in one evening, I'm honestly not sure where its going, I thought I had a plan of plot, but as with a previous fic, the characters just fucked off and ran with their own, I'm just along for the ride. Sean is a maddening combination of hot and irritating. I guess Odessa puts up with him because she enjoys having someone who enjoys being dominated right back at her. It appears to be a relationship based on chaotic energy and libido. I'm frankly surprised that Crowley hasn't done something dreadful to him yet, as Sean will apparently attempt to shag anything that moves, and it's pissing Crowley off big time, both being a target of lust, and that his beloved is another target of said lust.


	7. Sexy Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Intermission
> 
> Choose your own adventure style (kind of) – in this chapter you can select to click to read a bit of erotica, or skip past back to the main story without any sexy shenanigans. Reader’s choice. 
> 
> I decided to keep smut out of this version for those who prefer not to see it, but I’d be doing the characters, especially Sean, a disservice by not allowing them a bit of free rein, so as a compromise, I’m adding supplementary chapters to slot between the smut-free ones, so you can choose to skip them if that’s not your cup of tea, or dive right in if it is.  
Link to sub chapters 7a, 7b & 7c here below. At the end of it will be a link to the next smut free chapter for easy navigation. Alternatively, you can click to the next smut free chapter by hitting “next”.

*smut*

  
These couple of chapters are an erotic intermission from the main story “Hunting Ealing” , which is itself a sequel to “Protection.” I decided to leave smut out of both works, and stick to flirting/teasing. I’ve made the decision to create more pornographic chapters separately so that people who don’t wish to taint the story with it, can choose not to click on it, but those that do, can click to view these chapters, and then click back to continue the main fic. This way we get the best of both worlds, and the characters get to let rip with their basest desires after the gentle flirting of the main work.

It opens with Crowley and Aziraphale in the car on the way home, switches to Sean and Odessa, and then back to Crowley and Aziraphale after they get home.

The chapters are named:  
"What happens in the Bentley, stays in the Bentley"  
"How to worship a Goddess"  
"Patience is not a virtue".  
  
Link - click here to visit the erotica chapters, at the end, when the next smut free chapter is ready, it will be linked there for you to return to this smut free story easily.  
  
**<https://archiveofourown.org/works/21288593/chapters/50692226>**


	8. Preening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory snek cuddles and feather grooming with our soft angel and his love.

After a long night taking them through to the dawn, Crowley and Aziraphale had slept through the morning and early afternoon, The angel waking to find himself on the sofa in the quiet corner of the bookshop, his wings wrapped around him in a warm blanket, he couldn’t remember deploying them but was content snuggled in his own softness. He felt a stirring and lifted a wing slightly, to his surprise, finding an enormous black and red python-like snake curled on the sofa between his wings, comfortable and content. He smiled warmly seeing Crowley so relaxed, and reached out to stroke the smooth scales with a light touch.

Crowley wasn’t prone to slipping into his snake form very often at all, and this was the first time Aziraphale had seen him do it in his sleep. It was endearing that his love was so secure in his angel’s company that he’d allow himself to let go like that.

The gentle stroking of his scales must have roused the sleeping serpent, who raised his head, with an air of confusion and looked up at the angel, hissing indecipherable sibilants as if in question.

“I’m sorry, dearest, I don’t quite understand you” Aziraphale apologised, still stroking the sinuous coils reverently. The snake looked up at the white wings enveloping him, and seemed to come to his senses. He uncoiled and slithered off the back of the sofa, there was a brief pulse of power and he transformed back into humanoid Crowley again.

“I ssssaid… what time issss it?” He tended to retain a bit more of a hiss to his tone immediately after changing.

“Just after 2, dearest. Would you like some coffee?” Crowley nodded and yawned, stretching out in a languid fashion that set Aziraphale’s heart fluttering slightly, admiring Crowley’s sinuous form. Crowley caught his look, glanced down, raised his eyebrows and snapped his clothes back into place. Aziraphale tried not to look disappointed and stood up.

Crowley frowned as he stood. “Oh love, look at the state of your wings, you shouldn’t have slept on them” Aziraphale brought them forward as far as he could reach and cast a sorrowful eye over the disarray. They itched when his feathers weren’t aligned properly. Crowley reached out for his wings and started running his elegant fingers reverently through the feathers, smoothing them gently, causing the angel to shudder in appreciation for the soothing sensation.

“Let me get us some tea and coffee, then you can groom them, dearest” Crowley nodded happily, and sat back on the sofa, yawning.

Aziraphale clicked the new kettle on to boil and prepared the cups for tea and coffee. He smiled to himself at the shiny new kettle. Odessa had destroyed the old one after he’d blessed the water in it as a precaution against a demon, not wanting to risk hurting Crowley by letting it be used again to potentially boil water for his drinks that might be tainted with holy water. Ironically that wasn’t a problem anymore, and he could have kept the old one after all. Crowley had returned from Hell no longer a demon, but a guardian. Something new, and immune to holy water as he was to hellfire. A fact he’d celebrated by drinking a toast with a wine glass full of the stuff.

The kettle clicked off, and he prepared the drinks, carrying them back through to where Crowley waited on the sofa. He set Crowley’s coffee down on the table, took a sip of his earl grey, placed a cushion on the floor in front of the sofa, and sat down on it, his back to Crowley, wings spread out in a relaxed fashion so he could sip his tea as his lover groomed his wings.

Crowley relished such tender moments with his angel, and the privilege of being allowed unfettered access to stroke his beautiful dove white wings. Wings were such a personal part of an angel’s body, that it was rare for them to allow anyone to touch them, it was very much a taboo unless the angels were particularly close. It was a sign of great affection and trust to allow anyone else to touch your wings.

He began methodically to smooth the feathers from the bottom up, running his fingers along the barbs of each vane, hooking together any splits again, and rubbing specks of grit from the after feathers at the root, smoothing the downy soft semiplumes and filoplumes near the skin, then moving on to the next feather. Primaries and secondaries done, he moved up to the primary and secondary coverts, laying each feather smooth again as Aziraphale sipped his tea contentedly, muscles relaxing, and occasionally getting goosebumps and delightful shivers as Crowley’s deft fingers expertly massaged and groomed him tidy again. The feeling was divine. He worked up to the marginal coverts and then to the scapulars next to the skin of his back, and then began a slow gentle shoulder massage to finish, making the angel moan contentedly.

“Thank you, darling” he sighed as Crowley’s hands left his back, and reached for his coffee. Aziraphale stretched his wings out straight and shuddered, then folded them neatly, and vanished them back to the ethereal plane out of sight. “Would you like me to do yours too, my love?”

Crowley gulped more coffee, feeling both relaxed and more awake at last. “You’d be there a while” he commented drily. He saw his angels smile fade ever so slightly in disappointment. “But of course you can, anything for you, angel.”

They swapped places, but rather than sitting on the floor, Crowley grabbed a chair and turned it backwards so that he could sit leaning on the chairback, leaving his back toward the angel on the sofa. He removed his shirt again, and finishing his coffee, placing the cup out of the way, shook his own impressive wings out into existence. He didn’t do this often enough, he decided, it felt so good to have them free again. He crossed his arms on the top of the chair back, and rested his cheek happily on his arms, closing his eyes in contentment.

Aziraphale drew a low inward breath. The first time he’d seen all of Crowley’s wings deployed was in a situation when he didn’t have time to appreciate them properly. For millennia he’d only ever seen a single pair of crow-black wings with iridescent blue-green shimmer in the right light, but after the events with Lucifer in hell, Aziraphale had helped him recover his _other_ wings, those he’d had long before he fell from heaven. 6 archangel wings, one pair above the other.

At the bottom feathers of the bottom pair, the feathers were the pure gold of a rising sun, shading to a bright shimmering orange, then into a crimson red. The next pair up graduated from shimmering red through purple to deep blue, and his top pair had changed subtly during his healing, and shaded from the deepest blue at the bottom to black at the top as before, but were now studded with the twinkle of stars. His wings as a whole represented a sunrise, ascending to the darkness of the troposphere at the top*. They were so utterly beautiful to behold that Aziraphale had trouble drawing breath. He wanted to cry on them all over again, it seemed like heresy to even touch them, but Crowley, sensing his hesitation, instead reached back with one soft wingtip and stroked the angel’s face reassuringly, smiling over his shoulder at him.

Aziraphale reached up to hold the feather to his cheek, closing his eyes and relishing the softness on his skin. As he released it, Crowley relaxed his wings down again, and the angel leant forward to begin the gargantuan task of grooming all six wings. Fortunately they were easier than his own, not having been slept on, so the task wasn’t onerous, but enjoyable, just the thrill of being allowed to run his fingers through such beautiful plumage was reward in itself. He felt Crowley shuddering with delight at his touch, and unable to resist, leaned forward to plant a kiss on the skin of his back between the top pair of wings, then the middle, then the bottom set.

“All done” he announced, not without regret. Crowley stretched his arms and wings out at the same time, and admired his sleek plumage happily.

“Thank you angel, that was wonderful.” He then folded them away and into the dimension where they rested when not needed. Aziraphale was sad to see them go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the beautiful description of Crowley’s pre=fallen/post risen wings I am indebted to “WingedSpirit” and their work “A blaze of light” ( https://archiveofourown.org/series/1512323 ). Although in their work, they have Crowley as Raphael pre-fall, I went with Raguel, as described in my previous fic, “Protection”, as it tied in better with another Neil Gaiman angel story “murder mysteries” from the anthology “smoke and mirrors”. But I loved the wing description so much that I gave him those wings as well. Raguel isn’t canonically an archangel, but this is my universe, so I made him one. He is however the Vengeance of the Lord and responsible for justice, particularly of fallen angels. Crowley does not wish to go back to using the name Raguel.


	9. Challenge fucking accepted.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sean takes “could you BE any more annoying?” as a request, Crowley displays excellent anger management skills. Aziraphale in a Spot Of Bother™, Odessa is surrounded by ineffable idiots.

Odessa woke warm in her bed, an empty space beside her, and checked the clock, 4pm, still a while till sundown. She heard the front door slam as Sean came back from somewhere, and the familiar tread of his feet on the stairs. “Morning, love” he smiled sardonically. “Just had to nip out on a call earlier. Mick needed a hand changing the exhaust manifold on an XR3i for a customer, bolts all seized up, and a crack that needed welding. Cheers for the packed lunch by the way sweetness.” He leaned down and kissed her long and slow. “Going for a shower, I’m filthy.”

She nodded, stretched, and decided to join him. “You’re _always_ filthy” she reminded him saucily.

“And don’t you just love it” he winked back at her.

As evening drew close, they headed over to Gunnersbury Park, on the south border of Ealing, in South Acton. They only took the Land Rover this time, leaving the Carlton behind. Sean spotted Crowley’s Bentley first, parked under some trees near the entrance, and pulled up next to it, grinning, to be met with a cold look from Crowley, who still didn’t approve of the irritating human.

“Right” Odessa began. I suggest we scope out Gunnersbury Park a bit to begin with, it’s a popular hunting ground, and then head on up to Perivale, that’s even bigger and I know several vampires hunt that area regularly. Crowley, Aziraphale, how do you two feel about Aziraphale going with Sean this evening?” Sean grinned widely, throwing a mischievous look in Crowley’s direction.

Crowley’s expression darkened, and he was about to speak when Aziraphale laid a soothing hand on his arm. “Yes, that would be fine with me, dear” he assented. Crowley shot him a sidelong glare, and then flicked his look to Sean, eyes narrowing in an unspoken threat. _Touch him and you’re dead_. Sean shrugged, noncommittal, then, on the side that Crowley couldn’t see, winked at the angel.

Crowley pulled his angel close in a public display of affection and ownership, planting an unnecessarily extravagant possessive kiss on his lips, holding his face in both hands. “Stay safe, my Angel” he instructed, before flinging another death glare in the human’s direction.

Aziraphale, quite flustered at the very public exhibition, blushed to his toes and didn’t know where to look. “R.. right, um, yes indeed, let’s get started then should we?”

Odessa nodded. “You two take the East side of the park, Crowley and I will circle round the West.”

Crowley sauntered along, long legs easily keeping pace with Odessa. “So can you smell any tonight?”

She nodded. “A few in the area, some I recognise, some I don’t, so let’s go for the ones I don’t. At least now thanks to Stan, I have a name to start with. I don’t know her, but it’s something.” A dog walker approached them with two small terriers on long loose flexi leads. The dogs froze when they spied Crowley, hackles rising. Despite no longer being a demon per se, he still retained enough demonic aspect, borne from long years of immersion in hell, that animals could feel uneasy around him. Their owner dragged them past, grumbling, as the dogs snarled uneasily until they were past. Crowley sighed. Odessa looked at him sympathetically. “Do you think that’ll wear off?” she asked quietly.

Crowley shrugged. “I guess it’s just who I am.”

Sean loped easily alongside Aziraphale. “So, how’d you meet Mr. Hissy there, then?”

The angel bristled at the irreverent tone. “We go back a long way” he replied primly.

“How long is that then? I mean you’re immortals, a few hundred years?”

Aziraphale smirked. “Try six thousand” he replied tartly, gratified to see the human’s jaw drop. “We met in the garden of Eden, if you must know. Apples were involved.” Sean’s face grew even more astonished as he processed this.

“You mean that Crowley is, was, _the_ serpent?” Aziraphale nodded, enjoying seeing the human discomfited. “…wow” he managed, weakly. “That explains the eyes then I suppose. What about all those wings?”

Aziraphale stopped so fast that Sean almost stumbled into the back of him. The angel glared at him with a ferocity that seemed incongruous with Aziraphale’s usual gentle countenance. “Crowley showed you his _wings_?” His tone dark and dangerous.

“Uh, well not on purpose I don’t think. We were trying to catch Stan and he ran, Crowley flew over his head to stop him and intimidate him down by the looks of it.” Aziraphale considered for a moment, then carried on walking. “All demons were angels before they fell. Some angels look different to others” he shrugged, as if it wasn’t anything special. Raguel’s identity was a secret between only a select few supernatural entities.

Crowley saw the goddess tense as they approached a heavyset man apparently in his 50s seated on a bench. He looked more muscular than fat, and definitely had a threatening aura, but as Odessa came closer, Crowley noted the man tense himself, and turn to look at them, uncertain. He stood up, indecisive, but Odessa halted him. “Sit.” Her command, as Crowley had experienced before, was so powerful he felt his own knees sag in instant obedience. The Vampire sat abruptly back down on the bench, face transfixed in fear.

Odessa clearly couldn’t be bothered with wasting time questioning, instead she stepped up to the seated vampire, and grabbed his head in her hands for a moment, riffling through his thoughts at the speed of light, she nodded, then lifted him to his feet. “Just a formality, so I can find you later” she told him, then darted forward and bit into his throat, taking only a single gulp, she licked the wound closed and released him again. “Get out of here” she dismissed him, and turned to Crowley. “Another one who knows about the neonates going around, but nothing more, time to find the next one.”

Aziraphale and Sean continued on around the park perimeter, Sean twitched as whatever senses Odessa had infused him with twanged a sharp warning, but too late, as something bundled out of the dark and pinned Aziraphale to the floor. At the other side of the park, both Odessa and Crowley felt the tug of something amiss from the angel. The Goddess looked into Crowley’s eyes in alarm, grabbed his arm, closed her eyes and they disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Sean was relieved to see them pop into existence next to him, as he faced down a tall, lean, black haired and bearded undead that had the angel pinned to the floor, a wickedly sharp blade held to his neck, threatening. Aziraphale swallowed nervously. He no longer had the assurance of a replacement corporeal form should he be discorporated, he had to look after this body forever now as far as he knew. To die now wouldn’t just be inconvenient, it’d likely leave him as essentially a wandering spirit for the rest of eternity.


	10. Mr. Hissy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley’s anger management skills deteriorate rapidly. For the Goddess, duty calls.  
*blood and gore.

Crowley’s mind whirled. His instincts flickered between wanting to morph into a giant serpent, or to call forth his aspect of vengeance and call down unholy wrath on the creature pinning his angel to the ground. Odessa glanced across at him, as in the blink of an eye the guardian _changed_ and at the same time, exactly as quick as a snakebite, lunged forwards. His serpent form extending to 15 feet of powerful coiling muscle, the last thing that the creature before him was expecting. His fangs struck lightning fast into the hand grasping the blade, disarming the vampire before he had time to react, and then his coils were looping around the creature, writhing and constricting, crushing, squeezing the very breath from it’s lungs, not that it technically needed to breathe, but it did need a corporeal form, and Crowley was currently destroying it, grinding and crunching the bones into hundreds of splintered fractures in his fury.

The vampire’s body couldn’t resist such an onslaught of simultaneous damage, and blood began to burst from it’s eyes, nose and ears, then to gush forth from it’s throat. Odessa, jolted from her immobility watching the chaos unfold, darted forwards. “Crowley, _stop_! You can kill him but not yet, _wait_.” Crowley ignored her, too furious to listen to any kind of reason. Desperately the goddess reached out for any part of the creature he was crushing, to make contact quickly enough to read it’s thoughts before it died.

She managed, just, as Crowley finished constricting the mess of broken bones and mashed muscle into a barely recognisable pile of bloody meat, before releasing it, hissing with anger, he proceeded to literally circle the ground where Aziraphale stood, protectively, as if daring _anyone_ to come too close. Like a giant ouroboros he slithered in a continuous perfect circle around his angel’s feet, anger unabated, feeling more protective than he had ever been in his existence.

Aziraphale gazed down at his beloved, unable to articulate his feelings, clearly overcome. Odessa knelt down, touched the remains of the undead, and flared them into a hot white flame that evaporated into dust and blew away in the slight breeze, leaving no evidence behind. “Well, that was that, I suppose” she sighed. Crowley slowed his circuits of Aziraphale, apparently regaining some self-control, and curled up to coil gently over Aziraphale’s shoulder. Most of his weight remained on the ground, but a couple of coils loosely cuddled around the angel’s waist, and his head rested on his shoulder, tongue flickering in and out softly, occasionally licking out at Aziraphale’s cheek, as if checking he was still ok. Aziraphale lifted a hand to stroke him, soothing the serpent’s protective anger.

“Perhaps you had better change back, dearest? There are still humans in this park you know, one could come upon us at any moment, and you’re a little large to explain away as a pet.” The flickering tongue fluttered again and the golden eyes rested unblinkingly on the angel’s blue ones, then with a sibilant sigh, he relaxed back into a human form, which found him cuddled close around Aziraphale’s body, arms around his waist, and head resting on his shoulder from behind. Aziraphale turned his head to kiss the side of Crowley’s face. “Thank you, darling.”

Odessa stood up. “Well from what I could tell, that one knew the kindred who has been embracing the humans into neonates as well, like Stan did. Presumably he wanted to stop us finding out more. At least he confirmed the name. We need Arielle. It’s something to go on anyway. I don’t know her but at least we have a starting point.”

She stood up, then shivered. “Oh. Sean…? House ca…….” And disappeared.

Aziraphale stared at where the goddess suddenly wasn’t. “Where did she go?”

Sean shrugged. “House call, means she’s been summoned”

“Like a circle? Like summoning a demon?”

“Nah, different power balance, she’s a goddess, her worshippers have called on her, she lands where they are, but she’s the one in control of them, not the other way around. It’s pretty rare to be honest, most of them wouldn’t dream of actually praying to her, they don’t want to draw her attention. They’d have to be pretty scared to actually go ahead with it, so guessing it’s important.”

“Can we find out _where_ she’s gone?”

“’fraid not. She’ll be back when it’s done, I guess we just carry on without her for now.”

Crowley hissed on general terms, and stalked in his usual circles around the angel, frustrated and not knowing what to do. Aziraphale reached out to take his hand, stilling his uneasy pacing, and pulling him closer. Crowley felt the angel pushing a little calming power through the contact, and slowed his breathing, felt his heartbeat gradually cease its frenzied hammering in his chest. Aziraphale’s gentle power felt like warm sunshine dawning on his face, soothing his soul. He stilled, and turned to look in to his angel’s steady blue eyes. “Thank you” he whispered, low enough that only Aziraphale could hear, and was rewarded by the warmest smile.

Aziraphale pulled him close. “Thank _you_ my darling.” And kissed him sweetly.

Sean tried not to look jealous, he looked away, scanning the horizon, feeling in his somewhat limited way, for any undead influences around in the immediate area, but sensing none, he turned to the pair. “It’s possible we’ve scared off any of them remaining around here for now, let’s head on up to Perivale, there’s a bigger parkland area and golf course up there that’s usually a richer hunting ground.” He allowed the angels to lead the way, secretly admiring Crowley’s snake hips from behind as he sauntered ahead like the slightly menacing lovechild of Freddie Mercury and Mick Jagger, or someone with too many vertebrae and only an approximate idea of how legs work.

“I can _feel_ you looking, you know.” Crowley called over his shoulder.

“Yeah, but it’s not stopping you wiggling at me is it?” Sean taunted back, his response greeted with a single middle finger raised over his shoulder as Crowley continued to stalk toward the cars, the other arm around his angel’s waist.


	11. But it’s no sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The goddess is worshipped.  
(Apologies this is a completey vampiric chapter before we get back to the ineffables afterwards).

Odessa’s vision cleared, to find a circle of very nervous vampires surrounding her, in what looked like an old masonic hall, windows blacked out. They were attired in a variety of everyday clothes, nothing obviously gothic or attention drawing. They looked pretty much like normal humans, save for the scent that she could sense but humans generally couldn’t, and their aura of quiet power and manipulation, which humans could sense, but which didn’t affect her at all.

She recognised Adamson in the centre, tall, greying, appearing to be in his late 50s, ruggedly handsome chiselled jaw with the faintest hint of stubble, and dressed in a sharp dark blue Savile Row suit like an investment banker, gold Patek Phillipe watch, Italian leather shoes, but for all his projection of power and authority, he quailed under her direct unblinking gaze.

She had known him for centuries, and he had risen through the ranks to become the de facto leader of the London enclave of the undead, ruling with an iron fist, which judging by recent events, was beginning to slip a little. He must be afraid, she thought. Any sign of weakness or loss of power was an open invite to insurrection, and kindred didn’t mess around with voting forms, they went straight for the throat and removed weak link directly.

Nonetheless, they had gathered the courage to call upon her, a rare event in itself. She stood and waited to hear what they had to say. Some more junior vampires hung back on the fringes of the group, their terror palpable, but unable to tear their gaze away. For many of them this was the first time they’d ever laid eyes upon their goddess, and feared that gaze would be returned, that they would be recognised and marked for future consideration that they’d prefer to avoid.

Adamson cleared his throat and sank to his knees. All in the room followed suit. “My lady, we kneel before you and bring you sacrifice to plead for your indulgence, to apologise for our presumption.” Two burly, thick headed bouncer-type vampires stepped forward, a struggling younger, redheaded female vampire tied firmly by ropes, struggled between them. She looked to be in her 20s, with vivid green eyes and a slim frame. Odessa eyed her coldly. She wasn’t in the mood for this, but protocols must be followed. She stepped forwards and waved the guards away. They dropped the ropes and fled, as Odessa held the redhead still with her eyes alone. A mere token would do, she didn’t feel like destroying this one right now.

The goddess reached out and stroked the back of the redhead’s neck softly, pushing a gentle reassurance through the touch. _I won’t hurt you_ she whispered internally, the power pushing the secret thought forwards through the other’s body, and felt the trembling still under her hand. Odessa bent forward to the slightly shorter woman, and licked her neck slowly, savouring the salt taste of her flushed skin, then oh so slowly sunk her fangs down through the epidermis into the pulsing vein throbbing just underneath, puncturing the vessel, and feeling the hot, sweet blood flowing forth onto her eager tongue. Both of them gasped as one, a jolt of electrifying energy passed between them, their forms joined at that one juncture into a temporarily shared being.

The goddess’s other hand came up to cradle the girl’s face softly, thumb caressing her cheek, and took a first swallow of thick hot blood, feeling the creature shudder with delight under her ministrations, a seductive groan escaping her lips, warmth suffusing her crotch as the delicious sensations coursed through her undead body. Odessa slipped her arm down to encircle the girl’s chest, drawing her close for a second gulp, holding her fiercely tight, then, with a brief internal struggle, released her bite on the elegant white neck, licked the wound closed, in a long slow drawing of the tongue over pale skin in a licentious mark of ownership.

The redhead drew a shuddering breath, with a whimper of disappointment at the cessation of the wanton experience, and sagged to the floor, eyes pleading upward in silent supplication for more. The completion of the act of worship toward her, fuelled the goddess from the ground up in a wave of adoration that made her skin tingle with power, feeding off the piety of the creature at her feet. “Let her go” she instructed the nearest undead, who scrambled to comply, frantically grasping to undo the knots in the ropes that bound her, and pulling her away out of the circle.

“So what have you got to tell me?” Odessa demanded of the assembled group.

“Uh, we have, er, identified the kindred responsible for the unauthorised embracings of humans” Adamson began. “We haven’t actually _got_ her yet, but she’s called…”

“Arielle.” Odessa stated, flatly.

The grey haired vampire gaped, then nodded. “Yes, my lady. We know her usual hunting grounds, and have everyone scouring the area searching for her…”

“Everyone?” Odessa queried, raising her eyebrow and taking in the minimum of 40 or so undead crowding the hall sarcastically.

“Um, yes, well this lot will be resuming the search immediately that we have finished here. In fact anyone not currently in the council should leave _immediately_.” He hissed at them. A multitude rushed for the doors without hesitation.

“So, what _are_ her usual haunts?”

“Well usually more over toward Belmore and the Shooting Club, in Hayes to the West. There’s been a bit of, uh, insurrection recently. She’s not been complying with authority of late, not attending court, and when she has, she’s been spreading a certain amount of dissent. She’s been warned, but just went dark, we haven’t seen her for weeks.”

Odessa nodded. “Your compliance has been noted. And now I shall take my leave…” She stalked toward him, took his head in her strong hands, relishing the terror and arousal in his eyes, and darted forward, quick as a snake, bit his neck hard and took the swiftest gulp before releasing again in an instant, leaving him feeling like he’d just had a jolt of electricity to his nether regions, eyes wide in shock at the intensity of the feeling he’d just experienced. She released him, smiled dangerously, and disappeared.

Adamson collapsed to the floor, relief flooding his icy veins, and waved the rest of the court away. When they hesitated he snapped “FUCK OFF, _NOW_!” and laid back on the wooden parquet, breathing hard.


	12. Ultraviolet and carbon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ineffable husbands are knights in shining armour to a lady in distress, more clues gathered.

Crowley hissed with frustration at having to follow the slow Land Rover at a normal human pace through the evening London traffic, but he didn’t know exactly where he was going and was forced to comply, revving the Bentley angrily at the 4x4’s tail lights with every stop-go movement that delayed them. Aziraphale rested a calming hand on his thigh, and Crowley shuddered, glancing across with a knowing smile at Aziraphale. “Don’t start that again, you bad angel” he winked, and was rewarded by a salacious wink back from Aziraphale that promised more to come later. The angel wriggled in his seat happily, and Crowley couldn’t help but smile and relax a little.

Arriving at Pitshanger Park, Crowley pulled up next to the rumbling V8 land rover and stilled the engine. Sean leapt out of the satin black 4x4, eager to begin. “I can smell them already” he announced, and drew out a thin lariat of cord that had been soaked in holy water, the same he’d deployed the previous night, then reached back into the car, unlocked a secure gun safe bolted behind the front seats, and drew out an ex-army issue Browning 9mm handgun, and fastened it to a shoulder holster, then shrugged a black leather jacket over the top.

Crowley raised a questioning eyebrow. “What bloody good is that going to do against the undead?”

Sean winked at him “Carbon bullets – special ammo. Like a small high velocity stake to the heart. He hefted it out again, then reached into his pocket for a gunsight that he affixed to the top. “This combines a regular red laser sight with a UV daylight flashlight as well” he explained. “That alone won’t kill them, but it will give them some pretty painful burns.”* Crowley hadn’t considered that humans might have developed more up to date ways of dealing with the undead, and was impressed despite himself.

Given that the human thought it prudent to arm up, Aziraphale retrieved his sword from the boot of the Bentley. He wasn’t sure if celestial flame would have much effect on vampires, but there was only one way to find out.

This time they proceeded as a trio. It took a good half hour before they spied a jogger stopping for a rest and a drink near the apex of the next hill, and Sean stiffened. “There’s one near her somewhere…” He looked about, unable to discern anything in the gloom. Crowley however was not hindered by the constraints of poor human sight. He flicked his shades off and allowed his serpentine eyes to scan the darkness, picking out a hunched shape watching the woman who was now re-tying the laces on one trainer and catching her breath. “There” he pointed, then waved at the other two to stay back, and willed himself into the background, so that neither the woman on the hill, nor the vampire should be able to detect him. Aziraphale still could, having seen him before he deployed his trick of concealment, but to Sean the guardian had simply vanished without a trace.

Crowley stalked silently toward the vampire that was stealthily closing the distance on the woman. It leapt forward and grabbed her, a hand stifling her scream, strong arms holding her immobile as it went for her neck, and sunk its teeth in before it felt a hand on its own neck, gripping so tight it choked and released the human. Crowley, dropping his deception, snapped his fingers to freeze the human into immobility, like he had to Sister Mary at the paintball centre. The vampire gurgled in alarm in his strong grip, and its eyes opened wide in confusion as it met Crowley’s own. “You and me are going to have a little chat” Crowley hissed into its ear, and dragged it back into the bushes, as Sean and Aziraphale caught up. “Aziraphale, escort that human away would you, Angel?”

Aziraphale nodded and went over to the woman. He paused to stroke the wound on her neck, closing it neatly, “You just had a startle from an unsavoury person in the park” he told her. “I saw him off, I’ll escort you back to the car park my dear to ensure you get there safely”.

He snapped his fingers and she unfroze. “Oh thank you” she gasped. “He gave me quite a fright, are you sure you don’t mind accompanying me to my car?”

Aziraphale shook his head warmly, “of course not dear”.

Crowley pushed the vampire to the ground, hand not leaving its neck. Sean drew forth the gun and held it point blank against its chest. “Carbon, boyo. Don’t try anything funny. We’re looking for Arielle.” Recognition flared in the vampire’s eyes.

“I haven’t seen her since Tuesday, she was over in Hayes, Brook House area, she had a couple of her followers with her. I swear I’m not part of it, I’m not, I’d never…” he stopped, unsure what else to say. Suddenly both Sean and Crowley felt the familiar sensation in the pit of their stomachs, and Odessa appeared in front of them.

“Oh, hi, hotness” Sean grinned at her. “Got you one, and it knows stuff.”

She held its head for a brief moment, then nodded. “You can let this one go as well. I think we’re done here, best head on over to Hayes, it’s just up the Ruislip road a bit, shouldn’t take long.”

Sean holstered the firearm again and stood up, whilst Crowley, with a final vindictive squeeze of the creature’s windpipe, released it, hissing under his breath, still not over the events earlier in the evening, and harbouring a certain amount of resentment toward the creatures. It took one look at the malevolent expression in those serpentine eyes, and fled.

Aziraphale met up with them as they returned to the car park. “We’re off to Hayes” Crowley informed him, unlocking the Bentley with a wave of his hand. Shortly after they were rattling down a rutted, muddy track between fields, incongruously isolated amongst the suburban sprawl of the London borough, Crowley irritated at the mud splashes that fouled the pristine paintwork of the Bentley. They passed a sign for a clay pigeon shooting range, and carried on down the narrow lane, Crowley winced as overgrown branches scraped close along the sides of the car.

They pulled into a gateway, Sean hopped out of the land rover and indicated to Crowley that he should park up there and join them in the 4x4. He opened the gate, drove through, and Odessa waved behind them, closing the gate with a gesture without needing to leave the car, the latch falling back into place with a clang. They lumbered over the uneven ground, jolting from side to side. Sean killed the headlights, and flicked the panel lights switch on the sparse dashboard so he could still see the instrument panel. Another switch activated infra-red night vision light and camera mounted on the roof rack, which displayed the scene ahead on a small screen mounted on the dash.

Aziraphale grabbed onto the grab handle above the door as they lurched about on the back seat of the 130 crew cab, and reached out to touch Crowley’s hand, stroking his fingers against the skin softly. Crowley’s sharp vision noticed movement ahead on the camera before anyone else did, and pointed between the seats at the screen. Sean eased off the accelerator and coasted to a halt. They watched as first one, then 3, then at least ten undead stepped out of the darkness and formed a semicircle ahead of the land rover. Sean grinned across at Odessa, who smiled back at him and nodded. He’d been itching to do this since he fitted the equipment. He flicked a switch on the top panel of the dash and a series of UV daylight spotlights erupted into life on the roof rack, piercing the darkness, briefly burning exposed skin of the creatures caught in the way, before they scattered, injured but not mortally. Sean laughed and punched the air. “Carry on” Odessa nodded at him, and the car inched forwards.

After a few minutes they saw what they’d been aiming for, an old brick barn next to a derelict farmhouse, surrounded by overgrown bushes and trees. Sean stilled the engine and they alighted from the Landy, senses alert. “There’s more here” Odessa commented “a LOT more”, claws emerging as she flexed her hands. Sean drew the gun again cautiously. “This is where the one in Pitshanger thought of” Odessa confirmed. The hairs on the back of his neck prickling with unease at something disquieting in the air, Crowley rolled his shoulders and deployed his wings, this time with the razor sharp bladed primaries he used when fighting. Aziraphale followed suit with his dove white ones, also feeling the change in weight as he unfurled his bladed feathers. They proceeded, uneasy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *the carbon bullets and UV lights idea is shamelessly stolen from one of my favourite vampire shows from the 1990s, “Ultraviolet”.


	13. Arielle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you stare into the void… and the void stares back.

The mere fact that the Goddess was uneasy was enough to rattle Crowley slightly, he’d seen her rampage through hell and destroy demons by the dozen, then he realised that her concern was not for herself, but for them, especially the human. He noticed her quick flashing side glances to Sean, who was too focussed on paying attention to any small movements around him that he didn’t notice Odessa’s disquiet.

They advanced to the derelict farm yard, Crowley perturbed to be surrounded by buildings on 3 sides, empty windows overlooking them from every angle. If these bastards had weaponry, he and Aziraphale were sitting ducks. He mantled his wings protectively, and saw the angel follow suit. They were far from bullet proof, but at least the bladed primaries could deflect some missiles on occasion. He wasn’t actually certain what metal their primaries formed from, some ethereal substance similar to titanium he guessed, it was lightweight and immensely strong, it wouldn’t shatter, bend or break, but the rest of his very flesh and blood wings had no such protection and could just as easily be shot from his spine if someone knew what they were doing. He worried over his angel, who only had a single pair for protection, whereas Crowley’s plumage swept from the ground to a good 8 feet above his head when he pointed the top pair straight up, although they were currently mantled over his head, like Aziraphale’s.

Aziraphale hefted the gladius cautiously, not yet igniting the flame, but feeling it ready there in his fingers on the grip to call forth the moment it was needed. Crowley hadn’t thought to bring any weaponry, but was content to go forth on wing power alone, he doubted many would be able to get close enough to him with 3 pairs of a total 16 foot wide wing spans wingtip to wingtip (each was at about 8 feet from scapular to tip on its own).

And then they emerged, in pairs, triplets, small groups, from every doorway and corner, each of them a neonate, immature despite their human forms starting at various ages, they looked haggard, hungry, obviously still learning to feed, all genders, a multitude of races reflecting the diversity of the West London area from which they’d been so cruelly ripped by their embrace. Within seconds, the group was surrounded on all sides by over 50 silent undead, just gathering, as if awaiting instructions. Their expressions flickered with uncertainty and a plethora of conflicting emotions. Some gazed at Sean ravenously, many gaped in confusion at the light and dark celestial guardians, more so at Crowley with his unfathomable archangel wings that few of them probably understood.

But most of them – most of them kept their eyes on the Goddess, unsure. Vampires weren’t necessarily ever inducted into a knowledge of the existence of their deity, it just came with the species, they were created with an innate understanding that out there somewhere was their doom and salvation. Some may fear her for the oblivion that she wrought, others, particularly the elders, weary of thousands of years of existence, welcomed her final embrace and freedom from the world when it came. They didn’t know her until they saw her, but when she was in their presence, whether they knew of her or not before, suddenly, immediately, to the very icy core of their being, they _knew_, and feared.

With a mixture of fascination, terror and yearning lust, they hung back, unwilling to either step away, or forward. Odessa eyed them steadily, unmoving. Crowley hissed at her quietly. “Can’t you just scream this lot into a blood cloud like in hell?”

The Goddess, not taking her eyes from the thronged horde, shook her head almost imperceptibly. She whispered back, “I’m not jacked up on a hundred demon souls right now, nor do I have the back up of a couple of extra helpful gods giving me a celestial boost. This is my domain, they would never interfere, they’re unlikely even to be watching. You two were different, you mattered to the world, this doesn’t, not to the rest of the gods anyway. This is my problem, not theirs.”

A shuffling of feet and the horde parted, as a tall, muscular female vampire approached. She did not have the look of a neonate, but Odessa sensed the ancient primacy of her bloodline. This one was pretty old, sure of herself, arrogant, and angry. She didn’t even face her goddess with as much fear as had tinged Adamson, and madness danced behind her flat grey eyes. Her hair fell in cascades of incongruous blonde past her shoulders, her nose sharp, features angular and jarring.

With a boldness borne of insanity, she eyed up Sean and nodded approvingly “So you brought me a tribute?” she flung at Odessa, who lifted her chin, rolling her head, expression dark, as her own eyes began to flame with celestial fire, her claws lengthening into existence, and a snarl touching the corners of her lips, a low dangerous growl rumbling up from the depths of her chest, sending shivers down the spine of the guardians and vampires alike. Crowley noted that the expressions of the nearest neonates flickered very firmly from uncertainty back to pure terror, and stayed there.

Odessa directed the fierce flaming gaze on the impudent vampire. “What the fuck was your intention with this lot?” she waved a clawed hand at the amassed neonates. Crowley startled slightly as he heard movement behind him, and yet more joined the group, having come across the fields, a few of them showing burn marks from the encounter with the UV lights on the land rover earlier.

Arielle laughed back. “Adamson is done. He’s no longer fit to rule. The others are too afraid of him to take him down, when I suggested it they belittled me. So I decided if those already here wouldn’t stand with me, I’d make my _own_ army, loyal only to me. Each one was set to go and make more. Strength in numbers.” She grinned smugly as if she were the cleverest being in the world.

“So you have untrained neonates creating more neonates, then again, and again? You’ve overrun the area, they can’t feed in such a dense concentration here, the humans are noticing, they don’t know how to harvest and move on – they’re killing indiscriminately, and it won’t take long before the humans start to look beyond what they usually think they know and search for other answers. Then ALL of you are in danger. There are reasons for your laws – to moderate your activity to stay hidden, to remain a myth, nothing more than horror stories and bad movies. You disregard those laws and the only answer is total immolation.”

Arielle smiled back. “Try it” She nodded at her assembled minions, stepped back into the shadows, and the horde charged as one.


	14. Bloodbath.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teamwork in the battle of Hayes, Crowley takes a risk.

Shots rang out, but Sean was woefully unprepared for the sheer onslaught of vampires charging at him, clawing at him. He drew a blade and laid out around himself. A few of the carbon bullets had met their mark, each vampire screaming away into ash as the special bullets pierced their hearts, but those that missed the vital organ merely left them wounded. He kept swinging the gun, despite being out of ammunition, using the ultraviolet daylight torch on the top like a sabre to burn those coming too close and keep them at a distance, but he couldn’t cover his own back.

Crowley immediately saw the problem. He surged forward in a series of graceful low balletic movements, all 6 wings wide, slashing and decapitating, dismembering and wounding, until he was behind Sean, grabbed the back of his belt, yanked him closer to his body to keep him within the arc of his wingspan. Keeping tight hold so the human followed with his movement, he continued to strike out in all directions with his bladed wings like a whirling dervish of death.

Aziraphale had ignited the sword with celestial fire, which did appear to have a deleterious effect on the undead – everywhere it slashed it opened searing wounds that wouldn’t heal up, and when he plunged it into the heart of a vampire that got too close, it had the same effect as a stake or the carbon bullets, and the creature immolated in front of him, a screaming flame dissolving into ash.

His white wings worked in a precise fashion, stabbing out left and right in deadly jabs, occasionally sweeping out to decapitate a creature getting too close, blood and gore dripped off the tips of his feathers, scattering wide with every movement, any fear subsumed by the sheer determination to remain alive. Millennia-old training kicked in like it had in hell rescuing Crowley, muscle memory controlled his movements and his lips curled back in a feral snarl. 

Odessa was slashing and biting, ripping, rending, tearing, roaring in rage. It helped that the neonates were terrified to begin with and had no experience of fighting, let alone fighting a goddess, but for each throat she ripped out, another surged forward. Crowley didn’t dare try to get close for fear of injuring her with his wings, Sean was screaming himself hoarse with rage, slashing out with the short blade from his belt. Crowley had enough wits about him to feel the weight of the refill clip bumping on the human’s belt as he spun him around. “Reload you fucking idiot” he yelled in his ear. Sean came to his senses and fumbled for the extra clip, discharged the one already in the browning, and reloaded. He took a breath and tried to focus with precision. He had 15 rounds and made the most of them, planting his feet as Crowley held him steady by his belt, wings slashing wide to give them space, and firing off with more assurance than he felt. He’d never faced this many at once.

A couple of creatures hurtled toward Aziraphale’s back whilst his wings were mantled to the front defending against a couple more. Sean took careful aim, breathed out, and cracked off two shots that dropped them to the ground in flames. “ANGEL!” Crowley screamed “get your bloody back to something you idiot!” then he yelled out in pain as one broke the perimeter of his wings, diving under the bottom set to sink it’s fangs deep into his leg. Crowley swiftly chopped down with his lowest wing, neatly bisecting the vampire into two halves, as gouts of blood drenched his jeans from the screaming creature at his feet. His own golden blood flowed freely from the wound and he cursed with the pain in a tongue he hadn’t used since his fall.

Odessa was also streaked with blood, her own and others, but her wounds healed up gradually as she moved, still, the injuries only seemed to drive her to more anger. She was still being overwhelmed by numbers alone. Crowley thought of the demon blood that had powered her in hell, and yelled at Aziraphale “ANGEL! Come take this fucking human off my hands!” Aziraphale, staggering slightly, heard and fought his way over to where they stood. Crowley roughly shoved Sean into the angel’s arms “keep your wings around him to keep the bastards away, I need to do something.” Aziraphale nodded, but then had a better idea, he gripped the human firmly around the waist and leapt into the air, wings fighting for height against the added weight, and clumsily made it to the roof of the barn.

Crowley nodded approvingly, wondering why he hadn’t thought of that, and used his own wings to leap in close to Odessa, screaming to announce his arrival as he landed to ensure she didn’t accidentally lash out at him as an enemy. He landed in front of her “trust me” he commanded, and lifted her up, his more powerful wings lifting them with ease. Holding her close in a tight grip, he tipped his head back. “Take it” he hissed “you need more fucking power, _take it_.”

Understanding dawned in her glowing eyes, and with only the briefest hesitation, sank her head down toward his neck. On the barn roof, Aziraphale looked on horrified. “Oh no, not again, not now…” Sean stared back at him, confused, then noticed a vampire breaching the parapet of the roof, having climbed up the drainpipe. He allowed it to gain its footing before taking careful aim and sending a carbon bullet straight through its heart.

Crowley struggled to maintain concentration on flying whilst his soul was flayed into a million pieces of ecstasy at once. _Concentrate_, don’t let it sweep you away, _concentrate_. His teeth gritted, hands tight on the goddess’s arms, struggling to keep control of his loins as well as the intensely orgasmic feeling washed over him in brutal waves as she drank the golden blood of the archangel, unable to let go.

It was Crowley who inadvertently ended it, as he lost concentration in the euphoria of it all and his wings, an uncoordinated jumble, let them fall from the sky onto the muddy farmyard, back in the midst of the screaming horde. Odessa was jolted loose and came to her senses, her entire body glowing with power. She tipped her head back and ROARED, and the remaining vampires exploded into pieces, leaving an eerie silence in the night.

Aziraphale wailed in distress, and abandoning the human on the roof, plunged down to where Crowley had fallen.


	15. Bloodwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley needs help, and an innocent bystander is found

Aziraphale landed clumsily on his feet and staggered, falling to his knees next to Crowley’s prone form, beautiful feathers splashed with mud, golden blood still leaking from his leg. “Oh Crowley, oh my love, no, please no…” He slipped a caring hand under the archangel’s head, fingers running through the bright copper hair, cradling it gently, and felt tears sting his eyes. He felt like someone had just ripped his heart out of his body leaving a gaping hole, and almost screamed when Crowley opened his golden eyes and met his own

“Hi, sexy angel” he slurred, and winked.

Aziraphale almost dropped his head in the mud again.

“Oh heavens CROWLEY you, you… you _bastard_!”

Crowley grinned. “What? What’d I do this time?”

“I thought you DIED, you awful, awful thing”

Crowley laughed weakly. “’Course not, you can’t get rid of me that easily, angel, I’ve got a lot more irritating things to annoy you with yet." He sat up with Aziraphale’s help, head rolling a little.

“Wztph…”

“Crowley…”

“…dizzy, hang on a sec…” He blinked and looked around him blearily. “She took a bit more than last time.”

Odessa looked down, horrified. “Oh Crowley, Aziraphale, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t let go.”

A scrambling noise then a thud, and Sean landed on the farmyard having clambered down the drainpipe on the barn. “He looks pretty out of it” he nodded at Crowley, who was still sitting sprawled on the ground getting his bearings, looking punch drunk.

Odessa turned to Aziraphale. “I just need to rebalance him a little, this won’t hurt either of you I promise.” She extended a hand toward the angel, lifted it, and closed it. Aziraphale shuddered and goosebumps broke out across his body. She took her hand and pressed it toward Crowley’s chest. He understood what she was doing, having seen it before, and gasped as he felt a rush of _something_, raising his weak blood pressure back closer to normal with a headrush as she waved a cloud of angelic blood from Aziraphale into him.  
  
“WHOOOooooooo” he gasped. “Yup, that was good. Feeling good now, definitely, yes, good. Yup.” He got to his feet unsteadily and shook out his wings, causing the others to leap back to keep clear of the lethal blades. “Oh, sorry, hang on” He folded them back neatly out of the way, but still visible. “Did we get Airelle too?”

Odessa lifted her head, sensing, and shook it. “No, she’s still out there, we’re not finished yet.”

Something was bothering Aziraphale. “If you just took a cloud of blood from me to give Crowley, couldn’t you have taken it for yourself the same way?”

She shook her head – that’s blood stream to blood stream, biological not, not… Oh I don’t know how to put it into your language. It’s different. The drinking is different, it’s not just fluid, it’s power that comes with it, and if you drink to the very last drop, the soul comes too. I can’t explain it better than that”.

“As with vampires, as their goddess I share that trait in that the blood must be drunk directly, except in my case only vampire or supernatural blood like demon, angel, or deity will do. If a vampire drunk too much of another vampire’s blood, they’d break down, they’d deteriorate and devolve into a monster incapable of actually hunting for themselves any more, then die. Sure they’d feel more powerful briefly, but they can’t sustain it, it darkens them too much and they rot from the inside out after a while. It doesn’t do that to me, it’s the opposite – it just makes me stronger.”

“Oh Crowley, your leg…” She knelt down and licked the wound closed, then checked over Aziraphale for injuries, and went to check Sean was ok. “Aziraphale, would you mind healing Sean a little, please? I can but it’s not great for me, at least you don’t have to lick human blood to do it, it’s …” she shuddered. “I can do it but I’d prefer not to.” Aziraphale nodded, and ran his hands over the lacerations on the human’s skin, knitting the flesh together neatly, leaving no scars.

“Right”. She squared up and led them toward the farmhouse. She opened the rotting door carefully, and stepped inside onto creaking floorboards, swirling eddies of leaves and general detritus of an abandoned building. Plaster flaked from the ceiling and wallpaper fell in mouldy tatters from the walls. They diverged, Crowley investigating the front room, Aziraphale the parlour, sword held out ready. Sean headed back toward the kitchen with UV flashlight sweeping the way ahead, and Odessa ascended the stairs to the rotting upstairs, testing each step carefully, but it was quickly clear that there was no one up there, so she returned, and heard Sean yelling from the scullery at the back.

Aziraphale was the first to get there, and found the human standing over a prone neonate, which appeared weak and confused. Vomit stained the floor around it, and their neck still bore fresh marks. The pitiful creature looked young, androgynous, in their teens with short choppy brown hair and scared green eyes. “Looks like someone was just embracing this one when we turned up, it’s still changing, or just finished, one of the two.” The recent human stared up at them, bewildered, then promptly vomited again, their body ejecting the last of the unwanted human food it still harboured. Aziraphale stepped back in disgust, Crowley arriving just behind him.

“It’s too late to save it now” Sean commented sadly. Honestly it’s blameless in all this, what should we do?”

Odessa stood in the doorway, considering, as the weak neonate cowered on the floor, flinching away from the presence of the goddess. “Well we could dump them on the council to deal with, but they’d probably slaughter them anyway, and not as nicely as I could let them go. I can’t allow them to just go off into the night without any guidance, that’s exactly what we’re trying to stop.” She sighed gently. The others made room for her as she knelt down next to the quivering form.

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t your fault you got caught up in this mess”, and hugged the terrified being gently. The neonate stilled as she sent soothing power into their body, then, reluctantly, she bent her head to their neck, and softly, oh so softly, she led them through pleasure to peace. This was the opposite of the savagery the guardians had seen her despatch enemies with, this was a reverential act of sympathy, and the room stilled in respect for the pair as the soul left the body, and Odessa quietly flared the corpse away into dust.

She stood slowly. “Arielle is going to regret making me do that. Let’s go.” They left the farm house, as Sean and Odessa scanned the area trying to pick up a scent of where the rogue kindred had fled. The goddess found the trail first. “She’s headed back East” she indicated a patch of woodland in the near distance.

“Hang on a sec” Sean sprinted over to the land rover and rummaged in the back, then came back reloading the browning, and carrying a small water canteen.

Odessa nodded toward Crowley, and Sean handed it over. “Bless it” she instructed the archangel.

He held his hands over the vessel and muttered “_in nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti”, _still finding it strangely wrong to be able to utter the words without burning his own mouth. He then handed the water bottle back to Sean, who clipped it to his belt with a grateful nod.

“I forgot to say, dude, thanks for having my back during that lot”.

Crowley grunted noncommittal, paused, and replied “thank you for shooting the two behind Aziraphale”. Sean nodded, and they set off across the fields.


	16. Release the wrath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Letting the genie out of the bottle is one thing, putting it back is another situation entirely…

As they approached the covert, Odessa paused and thought for a moment, then indicated that they should gather close. “I want to do something so in the dark we will know exactly where each other is without needing to shout, the effect will only be temporary and will fade in an hour or two, but it should help, it’s like a booster for the tracking you already share with me, except this time we’ll each be able to sense each other in the immediate area as well.”

She drew a claw down her arm, and held her hand over the strangely purple blood that welled there, closed her eyes a moment and concentrated, as the blood shimmered under her hand. Opening her eyes she dipped a finger in it and taking the tiniest droplet, reached out to touch first Sean’s lips, then Crowley’s, then Aziraphale’s. Each felt a warm tingling suffusing their body as it spread throughout their consciousness. Aziraphale had the peculiar feeling that he could close his eyes and still feel exactly where each of them stood in relation to himself, even when Odessa stepped back, he instinctively could feel the distance she had placed between them without looking.

“Ok?” she questioned them, and receiving a chorus of silent nods, indicated that they should flank out to surround the escape routes a little more. Aziraphale watched Crowley stalk off, his wings were once again spread wide in the darkness, the gold at the wingtips gently shimmering and appearing to create their own light. Sean took the right flank in the other direction, and they carried on until they stood more or less at the four points of the compass surrounding the covert. Each could instinctively feel the position of each other, and as one they cautiously strode forwards into the undergrowth.

Sean, with the slight extra sense his lover had granted him, could smell the vampire lurking ahead, and Odessa approaching from the other side, could pinpoint Arielle more accurately, but the undead in the copse of woodland couldn’t as easily pinpoint the four individuals closing in on her, and wasn’t sure what sounds were humanoids and which might just be animals. But then a glimmer of light from one direction caught her eye and she swivelled to see the archangel stepping into the clearing where she stood, the gold of his wingtips casting a dim glow.

She considered the gleam on the blades of the primary feathers with cautious interest, then spun as Aziraphale emerged behind her, his white, blood spattered wings held forward ahead of his body, blades pointing directly at her. With a flick of his wrist, his sword ignited in celestial flame. Following suit, the sudden light making her spin once again, Crowley allowed hellfire to dance along the tips of his wings as it had in Hell, grinning to see the vampire’s discomfiture. He mantled the top pair above his head, his middle pair reaching around to point directly at her, and kept the bottom pair spread wide and flat like curved scimitars in an arc around his body. His still demonic grin ominous.

Sean slunk out of the bushes next, treading carefully but steadily, the browning levelled at her heart, and open water bottle clasped in his other hand warily. So now Arielle was pinned on 3 sides, and knew without turning, that the Goddess had just stepped up behind her. In the madness that consumed her, she somehow still thought she was going to get out of this alive, and bared her fangs, prepared to fight. She singled out the human first, foolishly disregarding the angels, and even more foolishly ignoring the goddess at her back. She didn’t realise she had also underestimated the human, as Sean flung the holy water directly at her, splashing a burning, searing arc across her body, making her scream and stumble backwards. She whirled next toward Aziraphale, perhaps mistaking his soft white countenance for weakness, and found a feathered blade slashing across her cheek, driving her backwards again, where Crowley’s primaries sunk deep into her flesh, burning with hellfire, piercing her shoulders in several places and holding her firm.

Aziraphale stepped forwards, and levelled the sword of celestial flame toward her heart, holding it steady, casting his eyes to the Goddess for direction, as behind them, Sean kept the gun pinpointed at Arielle’s chest from the side.

Arielle slashed out manically with clawed hands, trying to grab at Aziraphale’s wings, and succeeding only in cutting her hands to ribbons on the blades. She sunk back, but couldn’t fall as she was held firm on several points of the archangel’s wings from behind, blood dripping from a multitude of wounds. She raised her eyes finally to the Goddess, who stood impassive over the scene.

“Crowley, release her.”

Crowley obediently shrugged his wings forward and flung Arielle’s weight off his feathers. She staggered, but remained standing, sullenly glaring at the goddess.  
“You have broken almost every law of your kind, shown no remorse, tortured humans into twisted slaves for your own gratification and worse. And now I can smell that you’ve been drinking from your very own offspring, it’s tainted your blood. Did you think it would make you like me? That you could be your own goddess? Are you that deluded?”

Arielle snarled, the writhing darkness that had twisted her soul not allowing her any more clarity of thought, she was feeling only dull animalistic instincts, wanting to lash out regardless of the consequences. She raised her head and leapt at the goddess, insensible with rage.

Odessa, lighting fast, caught Arielle easily by the throat as she landed, the vampire’s claws slashing out indiscriminately at her captor’s arms, drawing runnels of blood where they lacerated the skin, not caring that each incision healed up almost instantly. Odessa held her firm, unblinking, as Arielle squirmed in her grasp, incoherent and screeching.

“You know this is almost always pleasurable, or at least painless” Odessa commented calmly. “But it doesn’t have to be. I can choose to make it hurt, but never do. But you… you don’t deserve anything less.”

She drew Arielle close in a tight grasp, heedless of the slashing claws and madly biting fangs, grabbed her hair in a strong fist and yanked her head back, exposing her throat, the goddess’s growl rising seemingly from deep within the ground, low and intimidating, rumbling up through the feet of each of the others watching, terrifying and primal, freezing them to spot, unable to tear their gaze away from the nightmarish spectacle before them. Waves of powerful anger pulsed out from the Goddess like physical punches to the gut. Aziraphale fell to his knees, wings raised protectively. It was far more powerful than he’d felt before. Even Crowley’s resolve faltered and he stepped back involuntarily, wings raising defensively. Sean was on the floor already.

There was nothing gentle about the savagery with which Odessa tore into Arielle’s throat. She _made_ it hurt, a conscious effort on her part, to tear away any of the pleasure and force the nerve endings to transmit searing pain, to feel every single rend and tear, and to feel the agony of the draining, to feel her very soul being sucked from her body with each gulp, bit by bit. The Goddess forced the corporeal form she held to feel the lungs burning, unable to process any oxygen into the blood stream, against Arielle’s countering insistence that it didn’t need to, every muscle cramped so tight that tendons and ligaments creaked and snapped, and all she could do was scream, until her lungs gave out and all she could do was to _be_ pain, nothing but pain, an eternity of pain to the exclusion of all else. Time slowed and the pain remained in the aeons before death came to claim her. She could feel each swallow of blood leaving her body, and felt her deity grow even stronger around her, and in her final moments, her belief flared brighter and more intense than any ever had before.

When your entire remaining existence is subsumed by your god, you have no choice but to be nothing but belief, and it fuelled the deity like rocket fuel. Her claws crushed Arielle’s bones, and the hot blood flowed easily down her ravenous gullet, until finally the soul escaped, and flared like a phoenix behind the goddess’s closed eyes, and died.

Odessa dropped the husk on the ground, breath raw, blood dripping down her face and from her claws, a nightmare made flesh. A mere _look_ from her flaming eyes incinerated the corpse into ashes in an instant. She was immobile, raw rage, unaware of her surroundings in the moment, staring at the ground. The invisible battering flames of wrath still consumed the clearing, unabated.

Aziraphale was still on his knees, and Crowley knew what he must do, what Aziraphale would do if he could. He forced his legs into obedience and stumbled forwards towards the goddess. He had to break her wrath. Every instinct in his body told him to run away, to flee as fast as he could, and he hissed defiance at his own mind, taking another agonising step. “Odessssssa” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Pleasssse, look at me.” He managed another step, muscles screaming in protest. “Sssssstop it, pleassse….” He stumbled a final step and reached out to fall against her, his hands on her shoulders. Her flaming eyes met his, blank.

His hands on her shoulders alone couldn’t penetrate the aura of rage still coursing through her being, high on celestial power of belief, unable to let go of the anger that triggered it. He pushed his power as hard as he could but it was like meeting an iron wall. Unbidden, Saraquael’s face flickered through his mind. He took his hands from the goddess’s shoulders, and clasped her face, searching those fiery eyes for any sign of recognition, finding none. He drew breath, gasped “I’m sorry, Aziraphale”, closed his eyes and leaned forward to kiss her.

Raguel’s wings suddenly shot through with bright white light, which travelled through is body until his being was blinding. Neither Aziraphale nor Sean could open their eyes for the glare. His own eyes, closed as they were, were still blinded by his own aspect, when he felt a gentle hand reach up and touch his own. He let go of her face and stepped back, light dimming.

The goddess opened her eyes, the flames gone, clear and grey-green as before. Raguel receded, leaving Crowley standing alone before the Goddess. The wrath dissipated, then vanished altogether. Aziraphale drew a ragged breath and clambered to his feet. Sean rolled over on his back and closed his eyes in relief.

Crowley felt the angel’s arms around him “Oh Crowley, are you ok? What did you do?”

Crowley shook his wings out of existence, lest the hellfire on their tips hurt his love. “I’m sorry, angel, if it’s any consolation it wasn’t me that did it, it was him. Raguel.”

Aziraphale looked confused. “Did what?” 

Crowley guessed that the angel hadn’t been able to see properly. Oh well, but honesty first anyway. “Sorry, I had to break through to her, I had to, uh, kiss her.”

Aziraphale scoffed. “You’re sorry for _that_? You’re sorry for saving us from whatever chaos was unleashed there you mean. Don’t be ridiculous, darling, you did what you had to do.”

Crowley relaxed with relief. “You’re usually the best one at calming situations, I tried how I thought you’d do it first, but it didn’t work, I wasn’t strong enough, but _He_ came through instead, and knew what to do, I just went with it.”

Aziraphale stopped him with a kiss, and broke off “Well that one is for you, not him.” And smiled.


	17. Unlocking the gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odessa has something to share with the guardians.

Odessa knelt down beside Sean, who remained lying on his back in the leaf litter, taking a moment. He reached out to pat her knee absently. “Well done, pet” he managed. “Maybe gimme a heads up if you’re going to pull that shit again maybe? Just a thought.” He squeezed her thigh affectionately.

She hoisted him up off the ground easily. “Sorry Sean. I can’t always control things how I’d like to, especially when emotions are heightened. It makes the blood more alive and whatever mania builds up just fuels everything faster in a vicious circle, like overrunning, then there’s no stopping it. That was a bad one, it amplified my own anger at the same time.”

Sean’s dark hazel eyes met hers. “I know, love. You just gotta be you don’t you?” he winked, and pulled her in for a kiss, holding her tight. The last of her tension evaporated in his arms. He leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially in her ear: “also, it’s kind of hot you getting kissed by an angel” he grinned his most salacious grin at her as she glowered back at him.

“Shut it you little shit” she admonished, without any real malice in her tone.

“Whaaat?” he whined. “I’d pay good money to watch that again, pay-per-view, like”, laughing. Crowley rolled his eyes and tipped his head on one side judgementally at Sean, but strangely didn’t feel the urge to punch the human’s testicles up through his ribcage this time.

They made their way back to the Land Rover, and thence back to the waiting Bentley. “Aziraphale, Crowley…” Odessa called as they climbed out of the 4x4, “I have something I want to share with you, should we meet you back in Soho?”

Aziraphale looked questioningly at Crowley, who shrugged. “I don’t mind, but I’m still having a shower as soon as we get home whether she likes it or not. I’m not getting all this blood on your bookshop floor, you’ll never forgive me, I know.”

While they waited for the slower land rover to arrive, Crowley dragged Aziraphale into the spacious bathtub and ran the steaming hot shower over him. “Wings out, love, carefully…” he gently played the water over the blood soaked wings, being careful to keep his fingers away from the blades until the water ran clean. The angel soaped his body while Crowley soaped his feathers and rinsed the remainder away. “Ok, my turn”, and they swapped places, Aziraphale now ministering to Crowley’s 6 wings with the shower head, whilst his own dripped on the bathroom floor.

Finished, Aziraphale stood back and shook his wings vigorously, fluffing the feathers. “They’ll have to finish air drying on the ethereal plane for now and you can preen them later for me, dearest.” He folded them away carefully, and the blades disappeared with them. Next time he called them forth they’d once again be replaced by soft regular primary feathers. Given Crowley’s somewhat larger wingspan, Aziraphale stepped out of the bathroom altogether to allow him to shake his wings a little drier before folding them away out of sight. Crowley was just towelling off, and Aziraphale donning fresh clothes as the shop doorbell rang. He waved it open with a gesture “we’ll be down in a moment!”

Crowley stepped through from the landing onto the upper circular mezzanine above the bookshop’s centre, still clad in only a towel, and looked down as Odessa and Sean walked in. “D’you two want a quick shower too? Water’s still hot” Sean looked up at him and smiled wide at the sight of the semi clad guardian above him, raising an appreciative eyebrow. Crowley rolled his eyes then spread his arms wide. “Yeah yeah, go on, get a bloody eyeful, happy now? Good? Right. Now quit it.”

Odessa cut in “yes please to the shower, thanks.”

Aziraphale showed Odessa and Sean the direction of the bathroom, left them to it, and descended the steps into the main level. He was dressed in his more casual trousers and cardigan attire, Crowley ambled down shortly afterwards in a black silk dressing gown. He took up his usual position sprawled on the sofa, as Aziraphale handed him a generous tumbler of 60 year old Glenturret over ice, before pouring himself a similarly aged Islay single/single* and relaxing down on to the sofa with him. Dawn was still an hour or two away. The angel collapsed backwards into Crowley’s arms, body on his lap, head resting on the arm of the sofa, gazing up happily at his love’s exquisite countenance above him, as the guardian gently stroked his fingers through his soft blonde curls. He sighed contentedly.

Aziraphale closed his eyes and enjoyed the bliss of feeling those elegant fingers twining through his curls with a soft steady repetitiveness that made him feel like falling asleep, not something that often happened to him. The hand paused in its caresses, and he heard Crowley take a swallow of his whisky, set the crystal tumbler back down on the side table, and resumed his soothing hair stroking. Aziraphale heard the ancient boiler cut off with a rattle as the water ceased upstairs, indicating that the others had finished with the shower, and a few minutes later, hearing the creak of feet on the stairs, the angel sighed and sat upright again on the sofa, as Odessa, now cleaned of blood and gore, stepped into the little lounge area with them at the back of the bookshop.

“That’s better, thank you Aziraphale. For that and for everything that both of you have done these past few days. I’m sorry you got dragged into it, I’m sorry it had to happen at all. Hopefully I’ve done sufficient smiting to scare the rest of them into bucking up their ideas for a while, but I’ll make sure to keep on top of it.”

Aziraphale lifted his tumbler in her direction “don’t mention it, madam, just doing our job, I suppose”

Crowley nodded “Happy to help” he affirmed, and likewise raised his glass to the Goddess, before swallowing down a fiery gulp.

Sean ambled into the room. “Thanks, guys, and uh… thanks for putting up with me, thanks for saving my arse.” He looked sheepish.

Crowley sighed. “You know what? You’d make a good demon. Honestly I’ve worked with worse.” Sean nodded, understanding that was as close as he was going to get to a compliment or acceptance from Crowley, who poured him a measure of the Lagavulin Islay malt and passed the tumbler over. Sean collapsed into the armchair and took a gulp, then let his head relax back on the soft cushioned chair back with a long exhalation.

Odessa still stood before the two guardians on the sofa, trying to frame something into words. Aziraphale looked up at her expectantly. Crowley tilted his head on one side and waited to see what would transpire. She had something on her mind. “So what did you want to share with us?”

Odessa looked down at them. “When I took the blood from you tonight, I found something, more buried deep in your psyche. Something I hadn’t seen before, and from the feel of it, even you don’t remember it. I’d like to try something if I may? No blood is involved, don’t worry, I just have a feeling”. Crowley shrugged, but she knelt, then reached out her hand to Aziraphale instead, who took it in his. She closed her eyes so the angel followed suit, although felt nothing but the now familiar prickling behind his eyes, then heard a soft gasp from the goddess. He opened his eyes to see her gazing at him, and then Crowley, with soft love in her expression, overcome with emotion.

“I’m going to give you a gift” she told them, and keeping hold of Aziraphale’s hand, reached out to take Crowley’s as well. “This might briefly sting, mentally speaking, I’m going to remove a block in your mind. You’ve efficiently blocked off a lot of things from before your fall, but I think you will want this one back, Crowley. Close your eyes, both of you.” They did.

Aziraphale felt himself spinning backwards in his own mind. Memories flashed back reaching further and further back in history, brief glimpses and snippets playing before his eyes, and somehow, linked through the Goddess, he could feel, and glimpse, the same happening to Crowley. Whenever a memory occurred that they shared, it burned bright gold for an instant and they simultaneously felt the connection, saw each other through each other’s eyes in that moment, and felt the love each felt for the other as they had at the time. There were so many, but they kept spinning back, further and further, past Paris, past Rome, Past Ancient Babylon, Mesopotamia, to the wall, where Aziraphale expected it would stop, but it didn’t. He felt Crowley tense for what came next.

The goddess tried to skim over the most painful part, that wasn’t what she was steering them towards. The visions sped up dramatically so that Crowley’s agony of falling was no more than a split second deep stab of sharp pain rather than the long drawn out torture it had really been. Crowley’s hand tightened on the goddess’s with the pain of the memory, however brief, and tried to allow himself to be guided, at the same time not wanting to feel what came before that either. He prepared to hit the block, the wall that they all knew was there, where he’d isolated off the memories on purpose so long ago, so effectively that not even he could access it all, only glimpses, like in hell when Aziraphale had restored him.

The goddess brought all three of them up against that wall. In their vision it shone pearl white, which Crowley expected was his metaphorical vision of it – like an oyster will lay down pearl over a piece of grit in its shell to wall off the painful irritation from its body, he had covered the painful memories of heaven that he’d wanted to forget in much the same way – smoothing the edges into something he could bear to carry.

The goddess reached out and laid a hand on the pearlescent wall, and pushed with her power against it. Crowley felt like an ice pick had slid into his brain and winced, but rather than pulling away, held her hand tighter and let her continue. He could feel her conviction that this was something he would want once they got there, and trusted that she was right. She literally knew his own mind anyway. Aziraphale also felt the pain, and tried to send comfort through the link to Crowley, who appeared to feel it, and sent back the thought of a smile.

The wall cracked. Light flooded through, and memories poured in. The goddess was sifting through them, discarding most, more painful memories that she didn’t want to bother Crowley with yet, he could deal with them later if he chose to, or wall them up again. She focussed in on one, and then reached out again to Aziraphale, whose memory was not hidden, merely forgotten. She drew the two together, and mentally stepped back so they could see each other’s memories and feel each other’s feelings at the same moment…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * I learned a fair bit about Whisky many years ago. Its never "whiskEy" when it's Scottish. It's only "whiskEy when it's Irish or elsewhere - Scotch never has an E. A single/single refers to single malt, single cask/barrel. Also, the Glenturret distillery closed when I was younger, but was bought out by Glenfiddich - a cheaper, less desirable malt. so it no longer distils the high quality, unique flavours they once did. True conniseurs would only be interested in buying vintages from before the late 1990s, the whiskies that remained aging in casks from the old days. If you ever see Glenturret whisky liquer, try some, it's delicious, better than Drambuie. If you want to learn about whisky stuff, look for books by Michael Jackson (no not that one, the Scottish whisky specialist) on the subject. 
> 
> I decided that Aziraphale might prefer the slightly smokier Islay malts over Crowley's preferred Highland or Speyside malts.


	18. Two gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two angels and a Goddess share a vision.

Aziraphale saw through Raguel’s eyes. He was flying among the walls of heaven, looking upward. High above the city, a phalanx of angels wheeled and circled and dove. Each held a flaming sword which trailed a streak of burning brightness. They moved in unison through the salmon-pink sky. They were very beautiful, it was … like on summer evenings when you get whole flocks of birds performing their dances in the sky, it was like that, only better. Above him was the sky, below, the shining city, his home, and outside, the dark.*

The angels above, the cherubim with their flaming swords, captivated his gaze, each so beautiful, their flight so perfect, wings so white, perfect synchronicity with each other as they drilled in the sky. One caught his eye – a bright flash of hair so blonde it was almost white, giving the wearer a permanent halo. Raguel was transfixed, all else forgotten. He didn’t want to stop watching, his gaze continually drawn back to that one angel circling above him, the others fading into obscurity. He was too far away to make out his face clearly, but he wanted to stop him, to talk to him, wanted to _know_ him, but his wings ached, then burned, with duty, dragging him back to reality and his purpose, he had to finish what he started.

Lucifer hovered a little below the host, watching their manoeuvres. Raguel called up to him. Lucifer noticed him and dropped down slightly. “Yes, Raguel? Have you discovered your malefactor?”

Raguel nodded. “I think so, will you accompany me back to Zephkiel’s cell? There are others waiting for us there, and I will explain everything.”

“Certainly”

Lucifer raised his perfect face to the angels. “AZAZEL!

An angel broke formation and plummeted in a streak of flaming sparks from his sword. Raguel was disappointed that it wasn’t the blonde haired cherubim that Lucifer had called down.

Lucifer addressed Azazel. “I have to leave, you are in command, Azazel. Keep them drilling. They still have much to perfect.”

“Yes, sir.”

Azazel hovered where Lucifer had been, staring up at a flock of angels. Raguel and Lucifer descended.  
  
Simultaneously, somehow, Crowley was seeing Aziraphale’s memory. He was circling, swooping, keeping his wingtips in a steady regular distance from Azazel’s on one side and Deriel’s on the other, flexing his wings, concentrating hard against the buffeting air currents. They had been drilling for a good hour already and his wings ached with the effort of sustained synchronous flight, his muscles burning. He noticed a flash of red far below him as a 6 winged archangel he didn’t recognise, who he had never seen before that day, approached Lucifer who hovered below, observing their manoeuvres.

In his distraction his wingtip got too close and fouled the air current spiralling by the tip of Deriel’s and caused the other’s wing to falter briefly, skewing the formation. Deriel shot him an annoyed, but patient look. He understood that it was tiring, but they had to concentrate. All of a sudden they were startled by Lucifer shouting up toward them “AZAZEL!” The troop leader broke formation and dove downward. Aziraphale closed the gap with the next cherubim and they re-smoothed out the formation to make up for the missing angel.

Again, Aziraphale gazed down, distracted by the beautiful long bright red hair and sunrise-to-darkness wings of the nameless archangel below them, fascinated. He squinted, trying to make out more detail and got a glimpse of a handsome profile and an elegant lean frame, hovering on the air with an ease that made him frankly slightly jealous. He bet the archangel wouldn’t have any trouble holding complicated formations like he did. He looked effortless in the air, and as he departed with Lucifer, he admired the grace with which he flew, and he felt sadness that the beautiful being was gone from his life.

Crowley’s breath was caught in his throat, he felt the Goddess extricating her hand from his. He opened his eyes to look across at the angel, seeing Aziraphale gazing back at him, his mouth an open O of silent amazement and adoration. Odessa released his hand as well. She stood quietly, backed toward Sean, nudged his foot with her own and silently inclined her head toward the door. Sean looked up, glanced at the two guardians staring at each other in shock on the sofa, understood, and quietly unfolded from the chair. Unnoticed by either angel, the Goddess and her lover left the shop.

Crowley reached out to take Aziraphale’s hand. He broke the silence first.

“Angel, I was wrong.”

“About what?”

“I haven’t loved you since Eden.”

Aziraphale understood, but Crowley said it anyway

“I’ve loved you since the day I was created, I just never knew it. I fell in love with an angel that day, I never knew his name, and when I plunged to Gehenna I forced myself to forget everything I could, every painful thing, which included that day, for what else happened afterwards, but it included you.”

“By the time I got to Eden, I didn’t remember the angel I’d wanted to know, that I’d yearned to find and talk to, it was part of a more painful memory and I couldn’t remember it if I tried. But when I saw you it didn’t matter, because I fell in love with you all over again.”

Aziraphale nodded, stunned. “I did too. I had never seen an angel so beautiful, I knew archangels were splendorous to behold, but never expected anyone quite like you. I couldn’t tear my eyes away until you were out of sight. Azazel shouted at me for breaking formation again as you left, and made me do 10 extra laps of the city afterward as punishment. I looked for you as I did, but couldn’t see you. I didn’t know why either, there was no way a mere cherubim would have any place talking to an archangel, I tried to put it out of my mind. Then I saw a blinding light near the centre of the city as I completed the last lap, it blazed so bright it hurt my eyes, and I felt something painful in my heart, I never understood what it was, but now somehow I know it was something to do with you.”

Crowley flinched, but nodded. He gulped, and Aziraphale saw tears begin to well up in his eyes. “Another time for that one, angel. I’m not ready for that one, I’m sorry.” Aziraphale nodded and stroked Crowley’s cheek to comfort him. “It’s alright, dearest, in your own time.”

“Crowley, dearest. When I saw you on the wall I didn’t recognise you at all – I hadn’t seen your face clearly enough or for long enough to commit it to memory properly, and after all, you only had a single pair of black wings, you were a demon, I would have no idea that you’d been an archangel before, I’d never have put it all together, but the moment I saw you transform from serpent to demon beside me, I was speechless with your beauty regardless. I tried to rationalise it, I presumed you were trying to tempt me in some way and that you had chosen to do it with seduction or something, tried to stay strong and pretend that what I was feeling was just the result of some demonic manipulation, but deep down, I knew it wasn’t.”

Crowley was weeping, but smiled and sniffed, huffing a short chuckle at the thought. “Asmodeus, that’s me, changed my name to Sexy Bitch” he laughed.

Aziraphale smiled. “I wondered when you’d mention that joke”

Crowley looked up into Aziraphale’s eyes, his tear streaked face serious. “Aziraphale, darling. I’ve loved you since the day I was created.” Aziraphale reached forwards and kissed the tears from his cheek. Crowley stopped him before he kissed the other side, and swept up a teardrop on his own fingertip. He leaned back slightly and considered it, then concentrated and swept his hand in a little arc, the teardrop blazed with light, and suddenly there was a bright light about the size of a pea, pulsing and burning, floating above his palm. Aziraphale looked on in wonder.

Crowley was smiling, gazing at the orb dancing in the air, he twirled it around his fingertips and set it spiralling in a brief orbit of the angel’s head before recapturing it above his hand where it spun gently. “What is it?” Aziraphale gasped softly.

Crowley looked up into his clear blue eyes. “Your love and your tears healed me, brought me back my wings, brought back much more than I’d ever have imagined. This is _my_ love, and it’s for you.” Aziraphale gazed at it, still confused.

“It’s the first one I’ve made since before the earth was created. It’s also the smallest, the smallest in the universe, and it’s all for you. It’s also the only one I’ve made with tears of happiness rather than sorrow.”

Realisation sunk in and Aziraphale’s eyes went wide, he stared down at the spinning creation. “It’s a STAR?”**

Crowley nodded. “Tiniest one ever, and it’s yours.” He waved his hands and encapsulated it in a tiny glass orb no bigger than a wren’s egg. He let it float back to orbit the angel’s head, and waved his hands in a loop, spinning a fine silver chain out of raw firmament. He beckoned the orb back to him and strung it onto the chain, then allowed gravity to finally catch up with it, and it hung looped from his fingers. Crowley leaned forward and fastened it around his love’s neck, before kissing him slowly.

When Crowley broke off and leaned back, Aziraphale lifted the tiny glowing orb in his fingers and gazed at it for a few moments, before kissing it and tucking it inside his shirt. “I’m never taking this off, dearest.” He leaned forward again, taking Crowley in his arms, holding him close, burying his face in the warmth where neck met shoulder, and felt Crowley kissing his neck in return, soft fluttering kisses, whilst deft fingers stroked his hair. He closed his eyes and breathed deep, enraptured by the warm scent of his love, and feeling that love all around him, glowing out from Crowley’s body in waves that had never ceased since the world was made. It had always been there, part of what he’d always thought was the background love of the world, when all along it was Crowley, his love so huge as to eclipse anything around it.

Somehow the next thing he knew was Crowley lifting him, surprisingly strong for his lithe frame, and carrying him upstairs to the bedroom, and as he lay there in the dark, divested of his clothing, the tiny star rested on his chest, glowing gently. Crowley took Aziraphale’s hand and showed him how to run his fingers over the orb causing it to dim to a low glow, or to burn bright again. He released his hand, and Aziraphale tried it on his own, dimming the little orb to a firefly’s worth of illumination. He smiled, enraptured by the creation. “It won’t ever go out, you know” Crowley whispered to him. “Not until the end of the universe itself, like my love for you.” They kissed again, then Crowley rested his head on Aziraphale’s chest, and fell asleep listening to the steady warm breath of the angel, whose hands stoked his red hair softly as he drifted off, and dreamt of stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * This paragraph, and a snippet or two after is taken directly from Neil Gaiman’s short story “Murder Mysteries”, from the anthology “Smoke and Mirrors” and as a standalone graphic novel. It was too perfect for this scene, with Raguel, who “never really fell”, to have observed the beauty of angels drilling with flaming swords, and for one of them NOT to have been Aziraphale. 
> 
> ** the concept of Crowley making tiny stars to delight Aziraphale stems from “A blaze of light” by “WingedSpirit”, whose beautiful writing has inspired a few details in this series, including bladed feathers for fighting, and the colour of Raguel’s wings (although they used the wings for Raphael instead, but this one is my universe, so we have Raguel as he fits in perfectly when you mesh “Murder Mysteries” with what we know of Crowley from book and show. There are too many parallels for it not to be a possibility for his origin. I made him an archangel because I wanted to, because the wings were too beautiful to leave out. Link: <https://archiveofourown.org/series/1512323>
> 
> NEW! 13 chapters up and more to come, enjoy! It's very NSFW. The goddess's backstory, and Sean's. She carries a different name in this. [ https://archiveofourown.org/works/21738226/chapters/51858469 ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21738226/chapters/51858469)


End file.
